In this memory, I’m four. Before lunchtime, I’m playing with my friends on the square playground in front of my apartment building. The sky is blue, and a gentle breeze passes through.
In the middle of the park is an old willow tree. The tree sways in the wind, its branches lifting and leaves rustling.
As we play and let out screams of excitement, the soothing sound of the willow follows us in the background.