Tea

I love this tea. The kind like a tonic, sending steam swishing out as I bend to sample it. It's brisk. The liquid fills me up with a primordial longing for the mountains. Somewhere cold, quiet. Surrounded by pine trees and rolling clouds. Within its milk and masala, the infusion brews ancient secrets... tales of sturdy women ambling under the sun, plucking and gathering delicate leaves in large baskets, and smiling mums tapping a cool metal spoon against the rim of a cup after stirring the fresh blend within it. Somewhere is a hint of mint to soothe a scratchy throat and a spoon of sugar to lift the mind. An aroma of soil, wet and red, to take the edge off the sweet in the remedy. All cradled in glazed earthenware, held onto with deep love and devotion for several hundred generations.