Thursday, June 14, 2007
I have been drinking a lot of tisanes lately.drinking and thinking. That one was given to me and seems to be a meadow in a cup .When inhaling the mixture, I am thrown back to the summertimes of my childhood . It has been very hot and dry but a storm is coming over the mountains. The farmer came by to cut the hay for his cows, just in time.The machines have hummed through the day, and then he would finish the corners with his scythe.It would be late afternoon, an orangy glow would cover the warm and fragrant stubs and the air would smell sweet like this tisane.The medley of aromas, the dry bouquet of wildflowers, the scattering of wonderful healing herbs would be tossed by the farmer's wife into the air, to aerate the fresh hay, before turning them into little Monet stacks. I would breathe in deeply, reach up the high shelf for the milk bucket, and rush to the farm before the storm would hit.