The Origin of the Weeping Willow

Part Three: Not Quite The End

Years and years and years passes until one dat Leon came out to the meadow. He and his wife had argued previously that day and he needed air. But something was different now.

In the middle of the field stood a tree. It was a tall tree with a wide trunk that narrowed the higher it reached. Its branches curved and swept the ground. Leaves decorated the branches, pale green and shaped like tears.

Leon sat beneath its shade and relaxed. Something about this tree seemed familiar. He couldn't quite explain it but he felt like...like somehow he had been here before.

All at once he remembered. He remembered Willow. He remembered their time shared in this meadow. All those joyous afternoons spent here.

And then he remembered their end. How he had been so cruel to her after having become betrothered. He had meant to run away with her, to abandon Amber and live out the rest of his days with her.

But he knew how much it would disappoint his parents. And the thing Leon most detested in life was disappointing those around him. He remembered how badly Willow had cried when he struck her. "Weeping Willow." he said aloud without thinking.

He jerked himself upright and twisted around to look at the tree. It was all too much. He hadn't seen Willow around the village since he had gotten married. This field where they had shared eveything with one another. It was all too much to take in.

He touched a hand cautiously to the bark of the tree. It was smooth and cool. Sun kissed brown just as she had been. The bent branches and tear shaped leaves. She was crying. After all these years she was still crying.