柳树 (liǔ shù): ива

Spring has arrived, and the willow by the lake has grown tender green leaves; its long branches hang over the water, swaying gently in the breeze.

In summer, the children like to run to the willow by the river to cool off, eating watermelon while listening to Grandpa tell stories.

In autumn, the willow leaves in the park slowly turn yellow and fall one by one onto the path, feeling soft underfoot.

Although the willow in winter has only bare branches left, after white snow clings to them, from a distance it looks like an ink wash painting.

Grandpa said that when he was little there was a big willow in front of their house; the villagers often chatted and played chess under it, and that tree is a shared memory for everyone.