Up in the morning at 4:30 a.m. Up on the mountain in the cold rain and wind. Working in silence, self-reflection comes and goes, a reflection of intent and character. Sifting through the tea after it comes in from the gardens, again after it’s rested and bruised, and again as it comes out of the drier. Here is no trace of the narcissism of the master-student relationship, only the earth given voice by way of interplay between ourselves and the tea.
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