Willow and the living tradition of basket weaving has been one of the greatest teachers of my life. This courtship has taught me what reciprocal and devotional tending means.
On the banks of the rio grande the home of my ancestors, i see traces of beaver, beaver coppiced willow.
The willow remembers
She remembers each bend in the river, as if it were her own body, as she bends and sways she remembers all that she has become.
She remembers the stories of water, the stories of rain, the stories of hands, they move through her and become her.
As she weaves her roots into the banks, holding, remembering, she is also reminding, reminding me that when i weave i am also remembering, all the stories she is becoming and the stories she has yet to hold. I am remembering the waterways she contains are also apart of us, there is no separation.
The willow remembers and in turn teaches us not to forget.