There he still stood high on the hill. He had come here many moons ago. From this height he thought he would be able to see what had evaded him for so long. A maiden whose heart was like his had grown to be. Alone and a little lost. He would look far to the East, He had been West before and found no one who could be his alone.

The wind had blown on the hill before, sometimes chilling his bones but never his heart. Now a tall, still young Willow grew in the fertile ground that could hold a garden. It gave him shade from the sun, shelter from the wind and rain. The willow was like he, alone there on the hill. Yet it did something he would not yet do. It weeped in it's loneliness and let it's branches bend down around him as if seeking companionship.

As he would eventually not be alone, so would the Willow not be left by itself. He had planted rose bushes around the area of the Willow. He felt sure the Willow could smell the fragrant blossoms and knew it was not alone, It's branches swayed softly even though he felt no wind. It was swaying over the roses as if to say I will protect you too; for you have come to comfort me in my loneliness.

And the Willow spoke to the Roses, " I know one day this man, though he has grown older, will find a true heart and he will go away for a time." Yet now I have the fragrant beautiful roses to chase away my loneliness. I hope his search will end before too long. Then they can return here. There is room for a cottage in which they can share their love. They can sit under my branches, smell you fragrant roses and picnic on the grass.

That day will come to pass. They shall have their golden years.

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