When I was growing up there were two willow trees in the backyard. One was much younger than the other, but both were magical in their own way. The younger tree had a cascade of foliage that created a space away from the world. You parted the curtains of leaves and left the world behind.
The older tree was a wonderful climbing tree, and my brother and I build a platform in it’s branches. The foliage wasn’t as dense, but it felt like an old friend, and I would read tucked into the branches.