No. 45 - On Ancient Beginnings and the First Person to Steep a Leaf
Share
And, suddenly, it actually felt like spring this week on Vancouver Island. Buds bursting and warm enough to luxuriate on the porch with a cup of tea.
Intentional Tasting
This week, I’ve been doing some intentional tasting in preparation to put two new teas on the shop shelf: Jasmine Anemone and Champagne White. Each represents that beautiful first burst of spring: bright and exciting yet with the same delicate softness as the willow buds that have invited themselves into my backyard.
Reaching for Plants
Beside that baby willow tree, as the ground warms, every other plant is reaching outward, their energy replenished by a winter of rest. They are the inspiration for a new spring blend I have been developing. One that captures that feeling of energy returning to ourselves. And every time I fuss away at the blending table, I think how incredible it is that we humans have figured out what we can and cannot put in our cup. At some point, a person noticed, plucked, and tasted. Did they feel the trepidation we all do when trying something new? Or was their connection to nature and their intuition stronger than ours in these fast-paced modern times? The same goes for the first person who ever steeped a tea leaf. Although legends abound, we don’t really know who they were or for what they were searching. Was it for medicine? Food? Spiritual awakening? Regardless, for thousands of years, we humans have reached for plants when we need restoring. We did it in coastal forests and the mountains of Yunnan. We do it now in a tiny tea shop in Langford. Whether a beautifully dark cup of single-origin black tea or a light and replenishing herbal infusion, tea tells a human story about what we reach for when we need to come back to ourselves.
Intention for the Week Ahead
Remember that replenishment isn't a luxury, it's our origin story. It's how we step out of winter’s shadow and into the light.
