Strangers are just friends we haven't yet met

By Viola Arduini 

Gila Wilderness, NM 

October 26th, 2017 

Sometimes, it is easier to walk into the river than on the banks. The Gila river is beautiful, clear, running in its bed made of rounded stones.  

Huge cottonwoods and sycamores stand on its sides, feeling larger than life.  

In the Gila, I looked at trees with attention and focus, I looked at them for the first time. It was like finding myself in a big group of new people, getting to know them, remembering their faces, linking their appearance to a name, to a character. Irish people say that strangers are just friends we haven't yet met. I tried to meet the trees.  

A subtle pleasure got me any time I was able to recognize a new species, a new individual, to greet them as a familiar presence.  

The alligator juniper soon became my favorite to spot, with its bark shaped as the reptile skin. Every time I had the impression of standing before a being more than vegetal, more than animal, none of them and somewhere in between. 

I collected leaves from some of these trees. No more than 30 from each large individual. I made chlorophyll solutions with them. They are in my studio now, my archive from the Gila, the physical memories of new relations that were created, of time spent together.