why love happened

When I was a child, we drove a long and winding road through the hills to get home. On one corner was a glade of weeping willows between stone cottages, like the materialisation of their dreaming conversations. As we drove past, I would look and look, wanting to see what might live in its shadows. All I ever saw were the shadows, which was more than enough. They were heavy with hill-stuff. They moved with story. And that's why I love weeping willows : for the sake of one small moment on a road going home.




Our house was big and old. Its largest room, the living room, was unfurnished. No one used the room except for answering the phone in the corner and walking through to the small, cozy sitting room. But I loitered there sometimes. I gazed for ages at the Aubrey Beardsley paintings or out the windows which lined two walls. Those windows had no curtains. They stared wide and silent onto forest. And treeshadows lay like old sleeping men on the floor; rain flirted with the windows. I breathed against glass, watching rain, searching for owls and fairies in the forest. And that's why I love silence. It's where I grew up.



3 comments:

  1. My childhood house was crammed with my parents things, interests and collections, and in amongst it on a backdrop of riotous 60's wallpaper was a clean bold print Isolde by Aubrey Beardsley. I love the contrast and connection between our childhoods :-)

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  2. Beautiful images. While my mother was having her hair done at "Millie's" (a salon in her home) I played outside under a big beautiful weeping willow, dancing along with the tree in the wind. I find these trees magical, protective, and nurturing. I also spent hours looking out the window especially when it rained. I never connected it with my love for silence before but now it's obvious.

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  3. "They moved with story." Ohhhh! *happy sigh* Just lovely.

    And the new template! What a beautiful background! So dreamy.

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