Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Fall with a day dream

Fall is a dreamy season in its own style, a little sad, a little lost, a bit anxious. Golden leaves drift in between wind, red leaves dance in autumn sun. I thought of driving up north aiming Montreal on a New Jersey turn pike, diving into an oil painting of fall forest in high speed, days when I was young(er) with impulsive excitement. California has more ever green vegetation, palm trees lost its lush green in fall, leaving a sight of dull green and layered with heavy smog on top sliding off the dried edges. A shower would be heavenly, but a luxury in LA.

A friend invited me for a day of tea on a rainy day a couple of week ago. It was too early for rain in LA, but much welcomed. I didn't go to tea, rather enjoyed a day of rain and tea at my store, tranquility, quiet music, warm fire an arm away, a cup of flower warmed my fingers. My mind had crossed the ocean, rain drops smelled as soil of Phoenix Mountain, spring water swam through my bare toes tickling my senses, wild flowers immersed in water fall of rain shower in the forest, tender, vibrant and proud as a child.

I have longed to smell the soil of Phoenix mountain again, each time I sip a cup of Dan Cong, the more I needed to be near. Once I am there, my will may be captured and surrendered, I may no longer wish to return. Every time I walk at the edge of Pacific ocean, looking far into the other edge, there lays the culture of my blood, soil that once nurtured my bones and flesh, soil that nurtures tea trees that nurtures my soul today. My feet are standing on soil of LA, my spirit is already in Chao Zhou. Wish I could make an impulse decision as I was young(er), pack up and go as wish. Impulse or not, the excitement is still within, going to China next month is the plan. One might wonder why Winter instead of Spring. This trip is a personal trip, business on the side. The purpose is not to watch how teas are made. I am there to cultivate my root and connection. Also, my battery is running low, hence recharging is necessary. I need to soak up the rains on Phoenix mountain, I need to wander the ancient streets of Hang Zhou city, submerge in the romance and pain of ancient poets. Not one person in time could be exempted from pain, and every one in any time are included in seeking happiness. Pain is a magnifier of happiness, a guide to our eternal longing for happiness. Indulge it and be happy!

3 comments:

Margaret Studer said...

What a very lovely tale of tea and the forces of nature.

I once spent fall in Northern California. Being an LA girl born and bred, I found the drizzly north depressing, cold, and too damp.

Yet I came to enjoy long walks in the aftermath of the rain, the dampness bringing out the rich, woody smell of the trees, perfuming the air with scents never inhaled except after a heavy rain.

I spent many a rainy afternoon over a teapot, petting my cats, and writing as raindrops shimmied down the window glass. It's a fond memory.

Imen said...

Margaret,

Love the after rain smell of dirt, bark, compose and mushroom...

CB I Hate Perfume makes something like that... very soothing to the nose... :)

Jason Witt said...

This was a lovely post. I think you might have spoken of Puerh here at times as well as of Dan Cong. The connection with the soil and the mushroom shelter from the rain, that enchanted forest of Yunnan.