I made a cup of coffee today that was so good it transported me to another time and place.
One moment I was sitting in front of my computer with my bucket of pens a stapler, pencil sharpener and binoculars crowding around my mouse.
Then I lifted the cup to my nose and the sensation swept me to a tropical land where the first rays of morning sun delivered pitch, resins and floral perfumes from the jungle's edge to me on the most delicate morning dew and the slightest of breezes.
As I stood on the porch of my wood and thatch hut surveying the village and the surrounding jungle canopy lit by the honeyed morning sun, the villagers, as they passed by, looked at me with the fondness normally afforded to a beloved grandfather. I could only imagine that I must have served the village in some profoundly benevolent way in the recent past. Cured a dreaded disease, or saved the life of a revered villager.
Then I remembered the real reason they loved me. I had developed a means distilling the essence of grandmotherly love from the local coffee and freely shared the technique with them. They were so grateful they vowed to honor me always as a venerated village elder. And they were true to their word.
Yes...that is how good my coffee was this morning.
3 comments :
I like the new artwork at the top of your page : )
The story is good, you should be a writer! Well, I guess you are a writer, if you can get me to like a jungle village scene!
How do I get this blog icon back on my desktop? It used to be easy to do, with my new 'pute it doesn't work the same way, arrrghhh.
I'll have what he's having.
At five a.m. in the cold dark of an Iowa winter I am enjoying my cup of coffee from the warmth of my down cocoon while Paul is up coaxing the embers into a welcome burst of flame from a fresh load of dry wood. My coffee does not transport me to a tropical paradise but it is still pretty comforting.
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