My son is a source of delight and inspiration for me. He's ten, and so like me it's scary. He leads an intensely vivid inner life that reminds me of me at his age. I don't know how many times I heard my mom say, "Get your head out of the clouds." or "Erica's always in her own little world." Who knew that someday I'd be able to use that inner galaxy to spin stories?
Anyway, my son...sometimes a little of the inner world seeps out of him in some profound statement that sounds wise beyond his ten years. We were driving along HWY 52 in Rochester and saw a long row of weeping willows near the Plummer House. He said, "Willow trees are so sociable. They make you want to take a book under their branches and read, and you would get the feeling that they would be reading over your shoulder."
I've always felt something special when I see a willow tree. James just put into words something I'd felt all my life, but hadn't been able to express.