Willow Tree

My sister loves Willow trees. She told me of a time my father was looking after her, and she was only tiny. In the village there was a beautiful Willow tree. Father said something to my sister which she thought was 'shall we go to the willow tree' so she put on her boots, raincoat, and all sorts of other things, and he took her hand and led her to the 'lavatory'. The look of bemusement on their faces must have been a picture. Or perhaps my father thought that all little girls went to the lavatory dressed for a typhoon.