How did I live so long without knowing you? Is something I think often. All the afternoons I felt alone in my thoughts, all the sights that went unnoticed by anyone else, all the songs I thought belonged only to me. All the times I’ve looked at other people wondering how they move through the world with such ease… I could have known you all that time. Then I realize all those solitary thoughts were fertile ground for meeting you. The loneliness was prep work, the songs were an invitation, the sights beckoned, “There must be someone else who thinks about these colours”. A tree might wake up one spring day to find fruit on its branch and think, “how did I live so long without knowing you?” And the fruit might say “well, we’ve been preparing for each other all winter.”
Mari Andrew