I have a habit of remembering things by seasons: real ones, emotional ones and, at times, the ones marked in cardboard. There’s a season of my life that began five years ago, when I first started playing board games regularly. And like many beginnings, it didn’t announce itself. There was no dramatic awakening, no grand declaration of “I am now a hobbyist”. It simply started with a game about a forest.
Everdell was, quite unintentionally, the key that unlocked something in me. And although I’ve played countless games since (some louder, heavier, sharper, stranger), I keep returning to this gentle woodland valley, as if it’s a place where I left a version of myself who still has something to say.