There is always a year when everything comes back.
Ships from Italy within 1–3 business days
500gsm · 100% cotton · Hahnemühle Photo Rag · Archival pigment inks · 6 × 18 cm · Matte finish.
Arbres series · 17 of 20 different sets.
Catalogue Nº 081 of 100.
Dispatched from Italy within 1–3 business days.
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It usually arrives without warning, rarely on the timeline you would have chosen. You spend a winter, often a long one, doing the slow work of staying upright. You stop expecting much. Then one morning in late March or early April, you notice that the air smells different. The car park has a tree in it that turned pink overnight. The year has decided to start, with or without your permission.
In a meadow somewhere in Italy, a small cherry tree blooms by itself in the middle of a grassy field. Nobody planted it for an orchard. Nobody is keeping count of the harvest. The tree blooms because that is what trees do when the soil warms up and the days grow long enough, and it does it with a generosity that has nothing to do with whether anybody walked past today to see it.
Reads alongside H is for Hawk by Helen Macdonald, A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara, or any book given to somebody starting again at something.
The thing about an old tree is that it has been doing the same thing in the same place for longer than any of us has been doing anything. Wars happened around it. Roads were built. Families lived nearby and then stopped living nearby. The tree dropped leaves every autumn and grew new ones every spring and never told anyone how long it had been keeping count. Stand under it for ten minutes and the rest of the week starts to look brief.
