ginger tea

it’s fall in San Francisco.

Our days don’t run until 9pm anymore, the night finds us at 7 these days.

and on our usual sunny mornings in bayview, we’ve been greeted with a crisp and foggy air.

The year has already begun winding down, and so is our being.

we transition from all the possibilities of the outside world and find our lives intersecting more frequently in these cozy inside settings.

there is freshly peeled, and lightly smooshed ginger boiling in water, in our office makeshift kitchen.

in 20 minutes we can finally pour our cups and enjoy.

the ginger has tinted the water to a bronze-ish gold.

the tea is bitter, the ginger feels like it burns your tonsils before going down.

You don’t necessarily like it at first, but then …

all the dormant cells inside of you begin to dance.

and now youre addicted to ginger tea. you smile walking to the pot for the 4th time this morning refilling your cup.

you smile at it’s treasure because you will now take this secret with you and share it with others.

and youre grateful to know the anal yet excitable filipina woman who makes this tea every year during the cold.

you take her story with you when you make this tea for your family.

and that’s beautiful.

I’m so in love with the treasures I get to take with me knowing others as intimately as I’ve grown to know them in this awakened consciousness.

I hope to acknowledge more instances of human interaction through the simple things we come to learn, love and share like Ginger Tea.