The giant Corkscrew and Golden Weeping Willow trees are icons of Toronto Island (explorer’s guide here). I remember them as a little kid, looking just like they do now: Fantastic, welcoming and majestic. Like the famous Moai, the statues of Easter Island, I think they are part of the reason it’s said that the Island has healing power. Walking along or sitting beneath them you can feel their stable, comforting energy.
When you lose a tree like this you lose more than just scenery and natural habitat. You lose a mentor, guide and an active part of what makes this place so special. Last night, in a fit of sleep between the gale force winds of ‘Superstorm’ Sandy, I dreamt that I was driving a service truck of some kind and was suddenly hit by a small black car.
The impact physically shook me but I remained in the dream. The driver of the car was a fair-skinned young man with red hair who presented himself clearly as a friend and ally. He wanted to help me deal with the accident and reassured me that his government would support me in my endeavors.
When I woke this morning the closest willow was down. One of its two trunks had been split open revealing the fair, red wood inside, and the deep veins that regulated it’s tenure. There was no mistaking the connection.