Honey | Gini

Five

Nini's POV

One thing I've learned over my life, however still brief, is that humility makes beautiful people gorgeous. A person who doesn't know they're beautiful is automatically a thousand times more attractive. I don't know why that is, but I know it is that way. Sometimes, I worry I may be conceited because I think about my appearance too often. I fear that people won't like me when I don't cringe at my mirror. And yet they say confidence is also attractive, but showing it would be ugly. So really, humility is the only real way to present yourself. I'm still learning how to do that. It's really a balancing act. It's weighting all your branches pulling down against your branches lifting up in a way that causes your trunk to simply remain still. Humility is in itself just a weeping willow tree, strong branches holding strands of weak ones. It's silent, unaware of its beauty and its eccentricity, resulting in it hardly even knowing its existence. I suppose that's why it's the tree at which I drop my bike. 

Gina looks up at the hanging branches. There are a few other weeping willow trees around us, but this one is the largest. 

"A weeping willow tree," Gina observes. 

"It's my favorite kind of tree," I respond. 

I toss my backpack down on the dirt and step forward, going through the leaves like a curtain. After wrapping my arms around one of the branches above, I get a grip with my shoe on the trunk and use it to propel me upward. I manage to swing my body over the branch and sit up. Then I reach for the next one, getting settled up high in the plant. When I look down, I see Gina gazing up at me. 

"I didn't expect you to be so good at climbing trees," she says. 

"And I didn't expect you to be so good at stalling," I reply. 

"I am not stalling," she defends. 

She looks down at the tree trunk then back up at me with determination before leaping for the closest branch and pulling herself up. She doesn't even use her legs. It turns out she just has the upper body strength of Hercules.

"Okay, so you weren't stalling," I admit with a laugh.

She smiles proudly as she sits on the branch across the tree trunk from me. While I have my feet propped up on the trunk, she has her legs criss cross on the branch, somehow not tilting at all, with her back resting on the thin wood behind her. 

"So," she says, "what's so special about weeping willow trees?"

"I just like them," I reply. 

"There must be a reason."

"Can't I just like the way they look?"

"Yes, but liking the way they are is a reason."

She looks at me, and I glance around at the shade created by the leaves. It's like we're inside a secret hideout. To the outside world, we've disappeared, but we're here, safe in our little bubble that mother nature has provided us with. When my eyes fall back to Gina, she's still watching me, waiting for a response. 

"It's beautiful," I say. 

"It is," she agrees. 

"But it's sad, hence the name, weeping."

"I guess it doesn't know it's beautiful," Gina says as though she can read my mind. 

I look at her, surprised, pausing for a moment before saying, "Yeah. It's humble, and that's what makes it beautiful."

"I've never assigned emotions to plants before," Gina says with a chuckle.

"Sorry. It's weird."