Overhanging the path along the side of the canal, on which one of my running routes takes me, I am momentarily protected from above by the overhanging shoots of several weeping willows.

I ask myself, how it is, that the overhanging branches of the weeping willow seem to stop just above my head, whilst on the canal side they are strewn just above the water.

I’m not an arborist, but I imagine they are sensitive to the upward draft of the air as people walk along and therefore control their own growth to stay above the movement below them.

They are so incredibly beautiful and mysterious too.

To be among the branches of the weeping willow, however fleetingly, is akin to feeling a sense of security, to be safe under its protection in the eerie ambiance of its foliage, which seems to me, to hold within, its own light and sound whilst keeping out the distractions and temptations and noise from the outside world.

As I run through the overhang, and quickly emerge, I have enjoyed carrying along with me on the path an inner transformation from the weeping willow.

A feeling of self-hood and calm and truth which is safely held within me despite the world.

My next blog will be: The Woman in a Dress of The Wind

William Defoe