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“Want to hear a story?”


Not really waiting for my answer, he motions for me to sit down under the sizable tree. “Do you know the legends associated with the Weeping Willow trees?” He asks.

“No,” I answer.

“Some say that the weeping willows once stood upright and strong, but that the broken hearts of lovers so touched the hearts of the trees that they bent in grief and were never able to straighten themselves again, weeping the tears of each lover. Others say that they weep for the pain that mankind inflicts upon the earth and that they will right themselves, once again, when a new era of peace and kindness becomes a reality.”

“That’s beautiful.”

His eyes land on me, and he smiles a slow sexy grin, repositioning his body to where we are facing each other. He leans his back against the tree, grabbing a hold of one of the branches. “It is the tree of dreams. I have sat here so many times over the years, dreaming of how my life would turn out.”

“Well, is it everything you have dreamed it would be?” I ask.









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