Walking around carrying a cup of tea

A bright morning and we were off to Lauren’s again – the second time in as many weeks. Ed had baked bread, and I collected him – we commented on the fine cold morning. He had his cup of tea in his hand when he answered the door of his dwelling.

Ed’s dwelling is always warm with tea and bread going on, deep in the soft timberish light. A few months ago, a few of us helped him form a worktop from a felled cherry tree. Since then he spends hours at a time thumping dough, carefully cutting and sculpting the air inside it. He bakes rolls and loaves endlessly,  baking for all his friends, and cakes too – if you ask him nicely.

Do you want a cup of tea? He asked me. I said we had to get going, but I really did want a cup. The tea at Ed’s was just so delicious, and looking at his made me very thirsty.

I worry we’ll be late for Lauren, I said.

Not a problem my friend! He nipped inside and came back to me with a mug and the teapot. He poured me a cup of clear, pure tea. It was from leaves, no bag. I saw it glitter as it flowed into the cup – real tea, from Ed, is a great thing. Now I had my tea, I felt really on top of things. I was excited to see Lauren, and for the three of us to eat together and talk at length about good things.

We walked to Lauren’s with two hearty loaves of bread in a cloth bag, and our mugs of tea each in our hands. What a morning, Ed said. He was looking at the grass moving, the strong green motion against the far-off mist wall. I agreed, the sun was pale and small, the birds were perfect black jitters in the sky.

Lauren had jam and butter and, of course, more tea. It was a good time to be alive, one of us said. We all agreed that Lauren’s dwelling was exactly where we wanted to be. We ate more bread, and planned to walk it off with a turn around the wooded area.

There had been several bright souls up there, we had heard. Bright souls could have been anything – a golden presence in the canopy of the trees, or just a family of spectacular squirrels. I would have settled for anything –a harmonious fern, a good creaking branch, anything.

It’s good to be together, the three of us, we agreed. We took it in turns, more or less, to repeat how good the bread, how good the jam, how good the tea, how lovely it was.

Lauren liked the idea of bringing her cup of tea along on the walk, so we made a fresh pot and walked all in a line with tea sloshing in our mugs, and an expansiveness in our hearts.

On the way, we ducked into the shop opposite the green field to get a bit of cheese. Ed said a bit of cheese would go with the rest of the bread. We raised our cups to the shift-worker in the shop, she raised her own cup of tea back to us and said cheers.

It’s my shift next week, I said to her. She smiled. She seemed happy. Are you off to see the kind souls that have come to the wooded area? She asked.

We confirmed that we were doing exactly that. Although we did not realise that the souls were kind, specifically. I mentioned I was expecting either a golden light, or some fancy squirrels.

Her shift had been long, she told us, and she had not been to experience the souls herself, but had heard good things.

We said cheers again and went on our way. Neither me, nor Lauren mentioned how slow Ed walked, or how heavily he was breathing. We each looped an arm under his and it was good to feel him strong under there. He still had a good grip. AS we walked and our arms slacked, it was Ed who pulled us back in, eventually we all held hands.

Of the three of us, it was Ed who most enjoyed the gathering of souls in the wooded area. In the end, the souls presented themselves as spiralling columns of silver leaves, each climbing up and over us in waves. As they approached at our feet, they were accompanied by a soft-rising stringed music that was gorgeous on the ear, and I felt especially on the skin of my neck.

Soon, Lauren and I felt overwhelmed with a peaceful tiredness, and suggested heading back for cheese and a rest at Lauren’s dwelling.

Ed said he was happy in the wooded area. He stayed a while on his own, he wanted to keep enjoying his tea and hearing that sweet music. He said we could eat his share of the cheese.

As we left, Ed called to us. We waited while he got slowly to his feet from the log he had been sitting on.  He put a hand on each of our shoulders. Thank you, he said. I’ve had a wonderful morning.

I expected him to say more, but that was all he seemed to want to say. I turned back a few times as we walked away, to see him still there, sipping tea and smiling serenely.