Tea in a wicker chair overlooking the lake

Wicker chair on bluff overlooking lake

We shall sit outside, shall we, on a wicker chair overlooking the lake on a still morning in late May.  We shall don sweatshirts and baggy pants and sprawl contented as waves lap nearby.

Birds twitter and sing and a pair of male robins dance their territorial flutter of wings.

Are you cold?  Would you like to wrap yourself in a blanket?

Shall we sip tea, you and I?  What kind would you prefer?  I have several bags of herbal ginger, peach, kukicha twig, chamomile, lavender mint, delicious peppermint, oh let me go check so you can examine the full assortment.  Are you in a green tea mood?  Here’s green tea with ginger, with peach, with mint, with jasmine.  A bag of plain black tea to delight the palate?  Or there’s coffee inside, hot and rich with maybe hazelnut cream, or some almond milk or a spoonful of honey to sweeten whatever ails you?

We’ll talk, shall we, about this and that.  About what so-and-so said.  About the fields of our spring days, the language of gardening or mowing or hanging laundry on the line. Or about our deepest spiritual longings. Or maybe we’ll simply sit quietly without saying much, simply breathing deep the morning air, watching the dew slowly dry on the green grass, lounging in an old wicker chair, two friends with the rich fullness of silence between them, never a sweeter morning to simply be.

Tea