Why Do We Meet The People We Meet?

Some days, like this one, when a snow storm threatens to bury us alive, we have one cup of tea after another and rather than kicking us awake with caffeine, they slow us down into a cozy haze and we sit at our table alone looking at a delicately violet african violet and are left with only one question, "Why do we meet the people we meet?"

Lately, I have met some folks I kind of like a lot, but they are most mysterious to me and even more strange is how and why our paths have crossed.

I call each a blessing.

Each requires a certain amount of respectful, delicate, thoughtful mountain climbing. The footing is tricky. They give you this story and that, a late night recounting -- each fact a perch -- a way to scale the mountain they are. A way to climb into their life, trying not to disturb the terrain, just to do a quick Darwinian study of their natural lives, their uniqueness, their bravery, their most interesting vista on this world.

As a naturalist, I would like to fill a sketch book with diagrams of their desires, their passions, but know I still would not understand even the smallest bit about them.