In the fields where the morning dew has not dried, willow branches grow quietly.
In the fields where the morning dew has not dried, willow branches grow quietly.
🌾 Every willow branch is a gift from nature
In the fields where the morning dew has not dried, willow branches grow quietly. Farmers use their fingertips to measure the temperature of the sun, waiting for the branches to fade away from greenness, until they are both flexible and tough. Harvesting, peeling, drying... Time settles in the repeated details, just to keep the most authentic breath of the willow branches.
✋ The dialogue between fingertips and catkins hides the obsession of craftsmen
There is no mechanical roar, only the tacit entanglement of hands and willow branches. The craftsman repeatedly soaks the sun-dried willow branches with the temperature of time, picking and pressing, collecting and releasing, and the warp and weft are interwoven with not only craftsmanship, but also the obsession with perfection.