when i was in new york earlier this summer, i purchased some flower tea balls at pearl river. i forgot about them until this week. i dropped one in hot water and watched it slowly bloom. it was completely meditative. i chilled the tea then enjoyed it in the backyard on a very sultry evening. i love how ethereal it is.
the sign of a great story for me is when i read a line and have to put the book down to breathe and "recover" from the electric current shot from the page to my heart. i opened this book a week ago and i'm slowly making my way through. i'm only on the third story, if that gives you any idea of how many times i've set it down to breathe.
