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This noble weeping willow is one of my favourite trees.  I sat on the mill pond bank one summer’s day and watched it dancing in the breeze.  (There are hidden dancers in the leaves…)

Dance to the wind and the water lapping.  Clap your leaves and play the breeze.

Now moorhens scoot across your mirror. Riffle and wave. Sing rushing songs that whisper, shush and rustle.