Few things in life are perfect. This morning, however, comes pretty close. I will gladly give most of the credit to nature in this instance. Warm, golden rays, that have only just woken up themselves, peek out from underneath my drawn curtains. I reach over and slide them open but a mere smidge. For that is enough to illuminate the entirety of the room. Still tucked away underneath my cosy covers I only open my eyes and sigh softly, drinking in the glowy light. Gently it invites me to get out of bed and I feel I surely want to. This is a day for leisure. For calm. For slow.
There is an absence of urgency in my body. Nothing is 'necessary'. The most difficult choice that awaits me today will be which tea to drink first. And, that's not difficult at all.
The birds have been up for a little while now. They too have decided to enjoy this day, same as I. Even though their wonderful melodies sound continuously, there remains a stillness to the air.
When I lift the covers and abandon my bed there is no chill and no desire to stay just a little longer. I slip my feet in my fluffy slippers while stretching my arms over my head and arching my back luxuriously. A fresh gentle summer breeze brushes my cheek as I open the window. One last, lingering glance out my window at the lake. A smile. Soft and grateful.
My fluffy slippers take me to the kitchen.
"Let's start with tea," I say, to absolutely no one but myself.
As the water temperature rises I amble over to my basket of tea. My eyes scan the brown paper bags. Fondly I remember that time I first discovered pu-erh. Or rather the first time I made it correctly.
With a limited amount of knowledge, I had made it the same way I made all my other tea back then. Just pour some boiling water over it and voilà. Well, that wasn't the way, clearly. Not every type of tea favours the same temperature. Oh that sensation when I got it right though. Never had I tasted anything like it before. Or since. It's such a dark, rich, earthy, bear-hug of a tea. Not quite right for a sunny morning such as this.
My lemongrass blend is the way to go. While lemongrass is reminiscent of lemon, it's much more modest in its flavour. It doesn't overwhelm in the least. It's merely there, quietly in the background, being all refreshing and humble. Allowing calendula, chamomile and the black tea leaves to shine alongside it. The gentility of the chamomile is perfect for this equally gentle morning. Everything is soft and everything is quiet.
I watch the leaves stain the water with various shades of gold gradually turning a rich, even copper. Every molecule infused with flavour.
Cup of tea in hand I make my way over to the conservatory. I curl up into the soft cushions of my comfy armchair and take a moment to look around. The sunlight envelopes me in a loving embrace. I inhale deeply. Intentionally. The aromas of the tea are calling to me. I close my eyes and sip. Perfect.
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