“For in the true nature of things, if we rightly consider, every green tree is far more glorious than if it were made of gold and silver.” Martin Luther
Isn’t that a wonderful quote? I will probably use it again – just be warned. That’s too true a statement to say only once. I promised a while back that I’d do a post on weeping pussywillows. Well, today is that day. I had mentioned that my mom and I had first seen them a few years ago at a garden in Nashville, IN and I was smitten. They were for sale this year at the neighborhood Lowes, so naturally one came home. It’s up in the front yard now, looking right at home, on the opposite side of the house as the weeping crabapple. One website I visited described the weeping pussywillow as the “Tree of Enchantment”. I couldn’t agree more. Weeping trees hold an air of mystery among their branches. This might be because you can’t see what’s underneath them; and the leafy curtains shift ever so slightly in the wind to reveal little glimpses of what’s hidden at the foot of the tree. If you squint your eyes at twilight, you can’t tell if those twinkling lights around the willow are fireflies or perhaps they’re fairies! You just never know around a weeping tree – the branches offer great cover. And pussywillows, well, they are a quintessential spring tree. What says “spring” more than a handful of fuzzy pussywillows? They’re one of spring’s greatest pleasures. When I was reading about weeping pussywillows, I found out that they were first discovered on the banks of River Ayr around 1853 and that the garden varieties are actually the female form of the Weeping Kilmarnoch tree. They are a great choice for gardens because of their beautiful form and small statue and I’m looking forward to seeing how this lovely tree integrates into its new home.
Blessings to you,