Carrots

It was a perfect afternoon at an outdoor cafe. She sat with a large salad, twirling a piece of lettuce with her fork absent-mindedly. Her gaze was distant.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked as I sat down to join her. We were the best and oldest of friends. I thought I knew her well, yet I never could've predicted her reply.

"Carrots," she said with a knowing smile. "They're so incredible. And I've been taking them for granted for years."

What can you say to that? She went on...

"Did you ever think about them? They are so amazing. So reliable."

She smiled at me.

"Just like an old friend."

She speared a piece of carrot with her fork and held it toward me like it was a precious offering.
"Now I want you to think about this carrot. Like you've never thought about carrots before. Experience it as if this was the first carrot you've ever tried."

I closed my eyes and ate the carrot.

First impression? Incredible crunch. Then... a surprisingly light-hearted sweetness and satisfying richness of flavor--a mingling of the delicate refreshment of a spring rain and a solid sense of reliable earthiness."

"Carrot," I said out loud. And for the first time, I knew what it meant.