Friday Ramble - Tea and Redemption

The world outside the windows is dark, and the village is a collection of indistinct shapes and muffled sounds. When I look at the digital clock on the De'Longhi espresso machine, it proclaims the time as 3:10 AM.  It is cold and damp, and my bones, sinews and joints are shrieking in protest. What on earth am I doing up at this hour?

On winter mornings like this one, summer seems like a lovely dream from long ago and far away, and I thank Herself for this dear little kitchen. Always a sanctuary, it is a haven of warmth and peace and quiet shadows in the wee hours of the morning. The only sounds are the burblings of the tea kettle, and the rattle and hum of the refrigerator in the corner. This is where the magic happens around here, and no mistake. 

How does one banish winter for a while? Looking for something comforting to start the day and hopefully lull me back to sleep, I rattle around in the larder, opening canisters and sniffing them appreciatively. Royal Earl Grey? Constant Comment? Irish Breakfast? Yorkshire Gold? Cloudberry (Arpiqutik)? Crowberry (Paurngaqutik)? Rooibos? Ginseng? Japanese popcorn tea? Perhaps a simple Orange Pekoe? As much as I would like one,  putting a London Fog together at this hour is beyond my foggy sconce. I just want to pour boiling water over a handful of tea leaves and be done with it.

The last container is away in the back of the tea cupboard, and it holds tiny dried chrysanthemum buds, rustling gently and murmuring softly to each other. When I open it, the dry golden fragrance of last summer wafts out, and for a moment, I hear tinkling bells and exotic music, feel the warm August sun on my face. No doubt about it, this is the ambrosial stuff we will partake of this morning.

Waiting for the kettle to do its thing and whistle, I do a little whistling of my own and glance at the shadows falling across my mug, at the aromatic flower buds sitting on the counter. The shadows contrast wonderfully with the porcelain bowl, and its contents. The faint light coming through the kitchen window paints its verges pale gold. Forget the cold weather and short days, this morning scene is perfect just as it is. Tea anyone? There may be a few biscotti around here somewhere. 

Happy December, friends and fellow wanderers.