by the river
No need for descriptional words of the taste of this tea, of its smell, just as it is, the senses and the mind getting sharper, the sound of the working day from the distance is getting stronger, the buzz of the forest is more ...
This is a nice november morning with almost no clouds, slight wind. My mind is set to have a working morning, taking some IG photos and taste some aging tea. My thoughts were being a bit hectic, creating a slightly unsettled mind, even despite my morning meditation.
The first tens of minutes sitting and sipping tea, taking photos and trying to settle down to nature’s natural enviroment.
As the time was passing by, sipping tea, enjoying nutty, leathery, typical yibang taste, I am getting more and more glued down to the leafy forest earth underneath me.
The look of the slowly floating river mesmerise me. The aroma of the tea hits my nostrils even without sticking my nose inside the cup. All is coming together.
Without force my eyes will close and tuning in the flow of nature, into its pace, the sounds, the feel of real harsh air and its humidity.
First I thought I will quickly finish my hot water out of the thermo flask and I am gone but with each consequent steep I am willing to sit and just be here longer. I start to like waiting for solitary, yellow, goldish falling leaves into a slow stream of the river.
The tea gives its very straight natural image, no disturbing aromas or taste, just as it is, very gentle bitterness, with smooth taste, all the fresh straw notes are gone, the tea entered fully its fermentation phase.
Slowly, naturally, the remote yunanese forest is encaptured inside these leaves, tranfered to this teapot and opened up here by this river.
No need for descriptional words of the taste of this tea, of its smell, just as it is, the senses and the mind getting sharper, the sound of the working day from the distance is getting stronger, the buzz of the forest is more obvious. The mind is more sentient, the initial stir up of it is slowly melted down.