Ward’s Island willow a symbol of resilience for island residents

Thestar.com
January 7, 2019
Megan Ogilvie

This grand willow is a prominent landmark on Toronto Islands.

This massive willow growing on Ward's Island is “just plain beautiful,” writes Catherine Broatman.

Very likely to be more than 80 years old, it stands at the intersection of Withrow St. and Lakeshore Ave. (a two-minute walk from the Ward’s Island ferry docks), in the corner of a large playing field that’s used for lots of community activities, including sports, youth theatre, dinners and dog walking.

People born on Toronto Islands say this willow, now boasting a circumference of 6.7 m (22 feet), was a shady spot in the early 1960s and the meeting place for summertime swimming sessions.

For many of the thousands of visitors who pass this tree each summer as they head to Ward’s Island Beach, it’s a photo-op. For year-round residents, it’s a symbol of resilience, having survived ice storms, high winds, severe floods. It may well be the oldest willow on Toronto Islands.

It’s rare for willows to live a long time. This tree’s ragged and beautiful bark evokes memory, encourages reflection, and attests to endurance. And it’s just plain beautiful.

Because I’m a city-based member of the St. Andrew by-the-Lake Anglican church (located on the Toronto Islands about a 25-minute walk from the Ward’s Island ferry docks), I see this tree every week year round.

When it starts to bud in the spring, it’s like a big, pale-green haze, and in the fall the leaves turn yellow-gold. In the summer, the willow fills out -- seeming almost twice its winter size -- and always makes me think of the expression “like a ship at full sail.”

I’ve seen kids playing on a tire swing attached to one of its high branches, many picnic blankets spread out under its shade and many games being played (by humans, pets and squirrels) around its trunk.

When I’m walking to church from the ferry dock this tree always makes me stop and think. A teacher I once had would urge us to pay attention to what he called “noble trees,” and I happily remember that phrase whenever I see this willow.