Cup, Mug and Glass

Tea: Hot Cinnamon Chocolate

Music: Endusk, "Four"

Time: Night.

It has been a long, productive day, marked by a triad of most excellent potables. The wellspring was the same for all three.

The "hot" in this morning's tea -- a hand-blended gift from a friend -- was more than temperature and more than cinnamon. It's seasoned with Szechuan peppercorn, which becomes more pronounced as the tea cools. It's the sort of heat one feels around the edges of the tongue, in the soft palate -- even in the teeth.

This afternoon's coffee, from Homer's Coffeehouse, was chocolate Irish cream. The same friend who sent the tea bought me the coffee, long-distance.

And tonight, after a walk that ended just as the rain began, I broke out something porty, a gift received during an impulse stop at Holy-Field Winery, and raised a silent toast to the giver.

Leaf, bean, grape ... all testaments to things that grow, take root and produce wonders. Not everything is a metaphor -- but then again, from time to time, everything is a metaphor.

Salut.