The creaky, rickety wooden rocking chairs sat expectantly. Reclining on their ankles, they remained stoic despite the rows of knitted wool draped across their laps in oh such a casual way. The roughness of their curving lines paid homage to their time in a faraway wood, as they waited to become the frame for a human form that would try to rock them into a slumber.
“Would you like some twig tea?” the man with twinkling blue eyes asked. I was musing on my surroundings at a café in Louisville, Kentucky. His question drifted through the air. Flavors ranging from smoky to caramel to charcoal presented themselves on the menu, and I chose the cocoa variety.
Man, I still think about that twig tea, though. Tree bits in hot water sounds like nature in a teacup. And sometimes in a city, we need every bit of nature we can find. Continue reading