Weeping willows

Weeping willow. Pen drawing, 2 August 2022.

When I run, my phone and camera stay at home. They are unnecessary when running and above all, I wouldn’t know where to put them. I don’t miss them unless… I see a scene that screams to be captured. And that happens more often than not. I have long thought about bringing a small camera on my runs, I have even tried it. But it just didn’t work out. The love was there, but there wasn’t a match. I am now on plan B; learning to draw the scenes I like captured in more than my memory alone.

Today the weeping willow. A long row of weeping willows embrace the Pot gravel path that encircles Ljubljana. Whenever I run, the willows weep, throwing their branches down in search of a touch of solace. The willow trees stand so close to the path that their strands cover the entire width of it. One after the other they hang above the path like those beaded fly curtains you can put in the doorway. Sometimes the willow strands leave just enough room for my head to pass without touching, more often they carress the top of my head, gently stroking my hair. Could it be they are weeping for me? Can they see my suffering? Can they feel the pain? Are they reaching out to me, to comfort and to encourage. ‘Go on lonely runner. I am with you.’