Tom Jones wrote the lyrics and Harvey Schmidt composed the music for the musical "The Fantasticks." One of its most memorable songs is "Try to Remember," with the wistful line recalling that in September: “that life was so tender that no one wept except the willow.”
Now, I have a weeping willow in my yard, with beautiful draping branches, but I’ve never seen it “weep.”
What it does instead is drop branches... at the slightest provocation. And this year, we’ve had more than enough provocation: fierce winds, ice storms, heavy snows and even hungry deer.
Weeping willows aren’t native, but our native willows behave the same way — just as brittle, just as quick to drop branches. In fact, that’s one of the ways they reproduce.
If a willow branch falls on moist ground, it will put down roots and grow into a brand-new tree. That’s why you often see groves of willows along rivers and streams.
Broken branches float downstream until they wash ashore. Willows contain natural rooting hormones, so when a twig comes in contact with soil, it almost always takes root.
Restorationists often take advantage of this “free plant propagation” to stabilize shorelines, reduce erosion and restore wetlands. Willows provide food and cover for wildlife, and they are among the very first to bloom in spring.
Pussy willows — the flowers of willow trees — offer high-quality pollen for native wild bees and domestic honeybees in early spring, just when they need it most.
So yes, in September, life can be “slow and oh, so mellow.” But remember, deep in December and the rest of winter and spring, it’s the bitter ice and winter wind that help the willows reproduce.
