A small conversation this afternoon inspired me to want to write something…only my congested head and face felt that was a bit ambitious. So I pulled out a box of old writing and took the easy way out – type something … Continue reading
No, not Earl Hickey from TV’s My Name is Earl. Also not the bumbling country Sheriff in the movie Nothing to Lose. My love affair is with the bergamot orange joy of the tea of all teas. We’re tight. I like to just call him Earl.
It’s not the flavour; not the colour; not even the smell; or the warmth of the tea that calls to me. It’s every little detail of it all put together to make the experience of the hot drink so inexplicably perfect.
A proper cup of Earl takes no more than a single, slow, deep inhalation to soothe an upset stomach, console a sad heart, or warm a body from the inside out.
It starts with the heat on your hands as they wrap around your favourite mug, then as the fragrant steam envelopes your entire face and floods every smell and taste receptor you possess there exists a nanosecond where everything else simply disappears. The seat under you melts away, the walls evaporate, the hustle and bustle of the world blends into a colourful mirage … peace, solitude, tranquility. Everything is right in the world.
I could go on and on … but instead, I insist you stop whatever it is you are doing or about to do. Boil the kettle, put on the coffee pot, microwave the hot chocolate, and lose yourself in the sound, smell, and bliss of the first moments of your best hot drink. Ahhhhhh.