The Willow Tree

33m
Our story tonight is called The Willow Tree, and it’s a story about the first signs of spring on an open field beside a lake. It’s also about stepping stones, a bench up high on the bluff, geese paddling at the shore, tall rubber boots, a breeze that blows the hat from your head and the calm quiet that comes when you stop chasing some other moment and make a home in this one.

We give to a different charity each week and this week we are giving to A Home for Hooves Sanctuary. They offer a forever home for rescued farmed animals.

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Runtime: 33m

Transcript

Speaker 1 Get more, nothing much happens, with bonus episodes, extra long stories, and ad-free listening, all while supporting the show you love. Subscribe now.

Speaker 2 This episode is brought to you by Progressive Insurance. Fiscally responsible, financial geniuses, monetary magicians.

Speaker 2 These are things people say about drivers who switch their car insurance to Progressive and save hundreds. Visit progressive.com to see if you could save.

Speaker 2 Progressive Casualty Insurance Company and affiliates. Potential savings will vary, not available in all states or situations.

Speaker 1 Welcome to bedtime stories for everyone,

Speaker 1 in which

Speaker 1 nothing much happens.

Speaker 1 You feel good,

Speaker 1 and then you fall asleep.

Speaker 1 I'm Catherine Nikolai.

Speaker 1 I create everything you hear, and nothing much happens.

Speaker 1 Audio Engineering is by Bob Wittersheim.

Speaker 1 We give to a different charity each week, and this week we are giving to A Home for Hooves Sanctuary.

Speaker 1 They offer a forever home for rescued farmed animals.

Speaker 1 You can learn more about them in our show notes.

Speaker 1 If you are looking for more ways to invite coziness into your life, we have some ideas for that.

Speaker 1 We just put together a coloring pack with a Nothing Much Happens mini coloring book, colored pencils, and a downloadable exclusive story. It's such a nice gift.

Speaker 1 We also have our signature Bob Wittersheim t-shirt, our weighted pillow and wind-down box, our premium subscriptions and autographed books. It's all at nothingmuchhappens.com.

Speaker 1 Now,

Speaker 1 I've made a place for you to rest your mind.

Speaker 1 A very simple story to pull around you like a warm blanket.

Speaker 1 All you need to do is listen.

Speaker 1 I'll tell the story twice,

Speaker 1 and I'll go a little slower the second time through.

Speaker 1 If you wake later in the night, don't hesitate to turn an episode back on,

Speaker 1 or just think through any parts of the story that you can remember,

Speaker 1 and you'll drop right back off.

Speaker 1 Our story tonight is called The Willow Tree.

Speaker 1 And it's a story about the first signs of spring on on an open field beside a lake.

Speaker 1 It's also about stepping stones, a bench up high on a bluff, geese paddling at the shore, tall rubber boots, a breeze that blows the hat from your head, and the calm quiet that comes when you stop chasing some other moment and make a home in this one.

Speaker 1 It's time.

Speaker 1 Turn off the light.

Speaker 1 Put down anything you've been looking at or working on.

Speaker 1 Slide down into your sheets

Speaker 1 and get the right pillow in the right spot and feel your whole body relax.

Speaker 1 Take a deep breath in through your nose

Speaker 1 and sigh from your mouth.

Speaker 1 Nice.

Speaker 1 Again, inhale

Speaker 1 and release it.

Speaker 1 Good.

Speaker 1 The willow tree.

Speaker 1 It isn't just

Speaker 1 that the willow

Speaker 1 is the first tree each spring

Speaker 1 to sprout leaves,

Speaker 1 though that is certainly a glimmer I go looking for each year

Speaker 1 To see the light yellow haze,

Speaker 1 like a flaxen fog, hovering in its branches

Speaker 1 And it isn't just the way its long draping limbs dip leaves into the lake,

Speaker 1 like a beaded, viridescent curtain that I can slide through on my kayak,

Speaker 1 as if passing into a magic world,

Speaker 1 though those things are already a lot

Speaker 1 for a tree to gift to the world.

Speaker 1 For me,

Speaker 1 it is the way a willow

Speaker 1 seems to curl around you.

Speaker 1 There is something protective

Speaker 1 in its architecture.

Speaker 1 It's a place to shelter in the rain,

Speaker 1 to cool off on a sunny day,

Speaker 1 to hide away and read, or

Speaker 1 just be with something bigger than you,

Speaker 1 to feel small and safe under its umbrella.

Speaker 1 I tracked across the broad open land

Speaker 1 on my way to the willow tree.

Speaker 1 The ground was springy and damp,

Speaker 1 the grass just beginning to show green again.

Speaker 1 And I'd worn my tall boots in case of any flooded spots.

Speaker 1 The snow had been gone for just a week or two.

Speaker 1 But the sun had been shining so brightly each day

Speaker 1 that it felt like we were riding downhill toward summer.

Speaker 1 In just my jeans and a sweater,

Speaker 1 I felt warmed through

Speaker 1 as I trod over the bare ground.

Speaker 1 Even this far off,

Speaker 1 I could smell the lake.

Speaker 1 The fresh scent of the water,

Speaker 1 clear and mineral,

Speaker 1 just released from the ice,

Speaker 1 was in every breath I took.

Speaker 1 The steady plod of my feet,

Speaker 1 the rising color in my cheeks,

Speaker 1 made me feel like I was syncing up with the natural world around me.

Speaker 1 Of course,

Speaker 1 I am nature myself,

Speaker 1 and I can never really

Speaker 1 be unstitched from that fabric

Speaker 1 but after months inside

Speaker 1 after weeks with barely a glimpse of the sun

Speaker 1 or more than a few moments in the open air

Speaker 1 you can feel like

Speaker 1 old friends

Speaker 1 have gone far too long without a catch-up

Speaker 1 So I was breathing deep,

Speaker 1 opening my ears and eyes to all that I could.

Speaker 1 A breeze began to nudge my hat from my head,

Speaker 1 and I reached up and swiped it off.

Speaker 1 The warmth of the sunlight,

Speaker 1 the cool breeze around my temples.

Speaker 1 Ah, what a gift the world was today.

Speaker 1 In the distance,

Speaker 1 the willow tree was gaining size and detail.

Speaker 1 When I'd set out,

Speaker 1 it was just an indistinct dark spot on the horizon.

Speaker 1 The lake, a a broad shimmer.

Speaker 1 Now I could hear the ripple of water at the shore

Speaker 1 and the creaking of breaking ice further out.

Speaker 1 I turned a bit,

Speaker 1 deciding to go first to the water

Speaker 1 and then to my tree.

Speaker 1 Ah, to be alone

Speaker 1 in a place like this.

Speaker 1 The land rose, then dipped down

Speaker 1 in sandy spots at the edge of the lake.

Speaker 1 And I stood at the high point,

Speaker 1 looking down

Speaker 1 and looking out.

Speaker 1 Driftwood and scraps of tumbled grass and dead leaves dotted the sand.

Speaker 1 Tiny trails ran through

Speaker 1 and around all of it.

Speaker 1 Birds and small animals had left their mark.

Speaker 1 A lone bench sat on the bluff,

Speaker 1 and I found my way to it,

Speaker 1 stretching my legs out and crossing my ankles,

Speaker 1 tipping my head back

Speaker 1 to let the sun warm my face.

Speaker 1 Sometimes we get caught up

Speaker 1 in questions about

Speaker 1 what it all means,

Speaker 1 what we are meant to be achieving,

Speaker 1 where we are meant to end up,

Speaker 1 and by what age,

Speaker 1 and with what accolades.

Speaker 1 But

Speaker 1 what if just living

Speaker 1 is the point?

Speaker 1 What if we are like the birds and the trees

Speaker 1 without a why

Speaker 1 just alive

Speaker 1 because we are

Speaker 1 on the far side of the lake

Speaker 1 a gaggle of geese paddled through the water

Speaker 1 And I wondered if they had stayed through the winter

Speaker 1 or just returned from a few months away.

Speaker 1 My brain,

Speaker 1 so used to jumping ahead

Speaker 1 or floundering in the past,

Speaker 1 now stayed

Speaker 1 longer and longer

Speaker 1 with the sense

Speaker 1 and sounds and sights.

Speaker 1 I let my heart rate slow,

Speaker 1 found myself

Speaker 1 sighing

Speaker 1 and even yawning.

Speaker 1 I turned on my bench,

Speaker 1 slinging my arm over its back,

Speaker 1 and looking toward the willow tree.

Speaker 1 The breeze tossed my hair over my eyes, and I smiled as I tucked the strands behind my ears.

Speaker 1 It was forty feet tall, if it was an inch,

Speaker 1 and the span of its branches looked just as wide.

Speaker 1 I pushed up to my feet

Speaker 1 and started toward it.

Speaker 1 There were stepping stones

Speaker 1 dotted along the bluff,

Speaker 1 and I followed them,

Speaker 1 stretching out my stride

Speaker 1 to nearly leaps in places.

Speaker 1 They led away from the water,

Speaker 1 and eventually I was under the golden dome

Speaker 1 of blooming willow branches.

Speaker 1 I'd read somewhere that willows have other names.

Speaker 1 Sometimes they are called sallows

Speaker 1 or osiers.

Speaker 1 And I liked the way both of those words felt in my mouth.

Speaker 1 Fossils of them have been found

Speaker 1 dating to some 40 or 50 million years ago.

Speaker 1 That's how long they have been early to mark the spring and drape over water.

Speaker 1 A willow branch, when broken off, can simply be stuck in the ground,

Speaker 1 and it will often produce a whole new tree.

Speaker 1 What a survivor, I thought,

Speaker 1 as I got closer and reached out to place my palm on its trunk.

Speaker 1 I closed my eyes

Speaker 1 and drew deep breaths through my nose.

Speaker 1 I imagined pulling

Speaker 1 a bit

Speaker 1 of whatever was in the tree,

Speaker 1 whatever made it who and what it was

Speaker 1 into me.

Speaker 1 Its strength and adaptability,

Speaker 1 its protective attitude,

Speaker 1 and hopeful early bloom.

Speaker 1 I noticed how it felt in my chest and belly,

Speaker 1 in my legs and fingers,

Speaker 1 and looked for any spots that felt stopped up.

Speaker 1 Patiently, I kept my hand on the tree,

Speaker 1 and my breath circling.

Speaker 1 And soon my highways were clear,

Speaker 1 my back roads wide open.

Speaker 1 I opened my eyes

Speaker 1 and let my palm fall away from the bark,

Speaker 1 turned

Speaker 1 and leaned my back against it.

Speaker 1 I was calmed,

Speaker 1 quieted,

Speaker 1 nothing to search for or achieve.

Speaker 1 I just was

Speaker 1 as the tree and the water were

Speaker 1 the willow tree.

Speaker 1 It isn't just

Speaker 1 that the willow

Speaker 1 is the first tree each spring

Speaker 1 to sprout leaves,

Speaker 1 Though certainly

Speaker 1 that is a glimmer I go looking for each year

Speaker 1 To see the light yellow haze

Speaker 1 like a flaxen fog

Speaker 1 hovering in its branches

Speaker 1 And it isn't just the way

Speaker 1 its long draping limbs dip leaves into the lake

Speaker 1 like a beaded,

Speaker 1 viridescent curtain

Speaker 1 that I can slide through on my kayak,

Speaker 1 as if passing

Speaker 1 into a magic world.

Speaker 1 Though those things

Speaker 1 are already a lot

Speaker 1 for a tree to gift the world

Speaker 1 for me,

Speaker 1 it is the way a willow seems to curl around you.

Speaker 1 There is something protective

Speaker 1 in its architecture.

Speaker 1 It's a place to shelter in the rain,

Speaker 1 to cool off on a sunny day,

Speaker 1 to hide away

Speaker 1 and read,

Speaker 1 or just be

Speaker 1 with something bigger than you,

Speaker 1 to feel small

Speaker 1 and safe

Speaker 1 under its umbrella.

Speaker 1 I tracked across the broad open land

Speaker 1 on my way to the willow tree

Speaker 1 The ground was springy

Speaker 1 and damp

Speaker 1 The grass just beginning to show green again

Speaker 1 And I'd worn my tall boots

Speaker 1 in case of any flooded spots.

Speaker 1 The snow had been gone for just a week or two

Speaker 1 But the sun had been shining so brightly each day

Speaker 1 That it felt like we were riding downhill toward summer

Speaker 1 In just my jeans and a sweater,

Speaker 1 I felt warmed through

Speaker 1 as I trod over the bare ground.

Speaker 1 Even this far off,

Speaker 1 I could smell the lake,

Speaker 1 the fresh scent of water,

Speaker 1 clear

Speaker 1 and mineral,

Speaker 1 just released from the ice,

Speaker 1 was in every breath I took.

Speaker 1 The steady plod of my feet

Speaker 1 and rising color in my cheeks

Speaker 1 made me feel like

Speaker 1 I was sinking up

Speaker 1 with the natural world around me.

Speaker 1 Of course,

Speaker 1 I am nature myself

Speaker 1 and can never really be unstitched from that fabric.

Speaker 1 But after months inside,

Speaker 1 after weeks with barely a glimpse of the sun,

Speaker 1 or more than a few moments in the open air

Speaker 1 you can feel like

Speaker 1 old friends

Speaker 1 who've gone far too long

Speaker 1 without a catch-up

Speaker 1 so I was breathing deep

Speaker 1 opening my eyes and ears

Speaker 1 to all that I could

Speaker 1 A breeze began to nudge my hat from my head,

Speaker 1 and I reached up and swiped it off

Speaker 1 the warmth of the sunlight,

Speaker 1 the cool breeze around my temples.

Speaker 1 What a gift the world was to day.

Speaker 1 In the distance

Speaker 1 the willow tree was gaining size

Speaker 1 and detail.

Speaker 1 When I'd set out,

Speaker 1 it was just an indistinct dark spot

Speaker 1 on the horizon,

Speaker 1 the lake

Speaker 1 a broad shimmer.

Speaker 1 Now I could hear the ripple of water at the shore

Speaker 1 and the creaking of breaking ice

Speaker 1 further out.

Speaker 1 I turned a bit,

Speaker 1 deciding to go

Speaker 1 first to the water,

Speaker 1 then to my tree.

Speaker 1 Ah, to be alone

Speaker 1 in a place like this.

Speaker 1 The land rose,

Speaker 1 then dipped down

Speaker 1 in sandy spots

Speaker 1 at the edge of the lake,

Speaker 1 and I stood at the high point,

Speaker 1 looking down

Speaker 1 and looking out

Speaker 1 driftwood

Speaker 1 and scraps of tumbled grass

Speaker 1 and dead leaves dotted the sand.

Speaker 1 Tiny trails

Speaker 1 ran through

Speaker 1 and around all of it.

Speaker 1 Birds and small animals

Speaker 1 had left their mark.

Speaker 1 A lone bench sat on the bluff

Speaker 1 and I found my way to it,

Speaker 1 stretching my legs out,

Speaker 1 crossing my ankles,

Speaker 1 tipping my head back

Speaker 1 to let the sun

Speaker 1 warm my face.

Speaker 1 Sometimes we get

Speaker 1 caught up

Speaker 1 in questions about

Speaker 1 what it all means,

Speaker 1 what we are meant to be achieving,

Speaker 1 where we are meant to end up,

Speaker 1 and by what age,

Speaker 1 and with what accolades

Speaker 1 But what if just living

Speaker 1 is the point?

Speaker 1 What if we are like the birds

Speaker 1 and the trees

Speaker 1 without a why

Speaker 1 just alive

Speaker 1 because we are

Speaker 1 On the far side of the lake,

Speaker 1 a gaggle of geese

Speaker 1 paddled through the water,

Speaker 1 and I wondered if they had stayed through the winter

Speaker 1 or just returned

Speaker 1 from a few months away.

Speaker 1 My brain,

Speaker 1 so used to jumping ahead

Speaker 1 or floundering in the past,

Speaker 1 now stayed

Speaker 1 longer

Speaker 1 and longer

Speaker 1 with the sense,

Speaker 1 sounds and sights.

Speaker 1 I let my heart rate slow,

Speaker 1 found myself

Speaker 1 sighing

Speaker 1 and even yawning.

Speaker 1 I turned on the bench,

Speaker 1 slinging my arm over its back,

Speaker 1 and looking toward the willow tree.

Speaker 1 The breeze tossed my hair over my eyes,

Speaker 1 and I smiled

Speaker 1 as I tucked the strands behind my ears.

Speaker 1 It was forty feet tall,

Speaker 1 if it was an inch,

Speaker 1 and the span of its branches looked just as wide.

Speaker 1 I pushed up to my feet

Speaker 1 and started toward it.

Speaker 1 There were stepping stones

Speaker 1 dotted along the bluff,

Speaker 1 and I followed them,

Speaker 1 stretching out my stride

Speaker 1 to nearly leaps in places.

Speaker 1 They led away from the water,

Speaker 1 and eventually I was under the golden dome

Speaker 1 of blooming willow branches.

Speaker 1 I'd read somewhere

Speaker 1 that willows have other names.

Speaker 1 Sometimes they are called sallows

Speaker 1 or osiers.

Speaker 1 And I liked the way both of those words felt in my mouth

Speaker 1 Fossils of them have been found

Speaker 1 dating to some forty

Speaker 1 or fifty million years ago

Speaker 1 That's how long they have been

Speaker 1 early to mark the spring

Speaker 1 and drape over water

Speaker 1 A willow branch,

Speaker 1 when broken off,

Speaker 1 can simply be stuck in the ground,

Speaker 1 and it will often produce a whole new tree.

Speaker 1 What a survivor, I thought,

Speaker 1 as I got closer

Speaker 1 and reached out

Speaker 1 to place my palm

Speaker 1 on its trunk.

Speaker 1 I closed my eyes

Speaker 1 and drew

Speaker 1 deep breaths through my nose.

Speaker 1 I imagined pulling a bit

Speaker 1 of

Speaker 1 whatever was in the tree,

Speaker 1 whatever made it, who

Speaker 1 and what it was,

Speaker 1 into me,

Speaker 1 its strength

Speaker 1 and adaptability,

Speaker 1 its protective attitude,

Speaker 1 and hopeful early bloom.

Speaker 1 I noticed how it felt in my chest and belly,

Speaker 1 and my legs and fingers,

Speaker 1 and looked for any spots

Speaker 1 that felt stopped up.

Speaker 1 Patiently

Speaker 1 I kept my hand on the tree

Speaker 1 and my breath circling.

Speaker 1 And soon

Speaker 1 my highways were clear,

Speaker 1 my back roads

Speaker 1 wide open

Speaker 1 I opened my eyes

Speaker 1 and let my palm fall away from the bark,

Speaker 1 turned and leaned my back against it.

Speaker 1 I was calmed,

Speaker 1 quieted,

Speaker 1 nothing to search for or achieve.

Speaker 1 I just was

Speaker 1 as the tree

Speaker 1 and the water were

Speaker 1 sweet dreams.