My first memories of tea bring to mind two little girls, one all sunshine and gold, with sky colored eyes, one all midnight and moonbeams. Their world was a fairy tale of story time and tea parties, backyard adventures in a secret garden all their own. A tea set, a tiny cottage and kittens.
Milk tea to start. Dolls dressed in Victorian finery with sunflowers as their backdrop. Butterflies floating on sweet herb smelling air.
Milk tea is quite simple for two little girls- just milk and sugar in tiny cups! Disgusting to think back on it, but we started out with refined taste.
As spring turned to summer, we drifted on a hummingbird haze. Lazy days in the sun, our hair glistening with the scent of lemon and freckles creating a sprinkling pattern across our noses. We would listen to the stories of a wardrobe and Narnia, while creating fairy houses in the tall grasses. Giggles and secrets whispered softly, heads bent together as we waited for our next special treat. The large container of sweetened sun tea. Heated to perfection from the warm solar beams of pure sunlight! Drank once again from the dainty set only a child's hand can hold.
We weren't always the ladies at a high tea! At times those cups played host to mud pies and rock collection. The teapot was used to carry water to our science stations. Sometimes it would only be used with the invisible concoctions for dolls and stuffed animals, waiting patiently for their party to begin.
Slowly, as time does, and those two girls grew, imaginary tea parties were set aside for sleepovers and boy crush fantasies. The tea set lost its wonder and the cups were all but lost and forgotten. Little hands were not so little any more and the fairy tales were replaced with more grown up dreams.
Tea was now overly sugared out of bottles when stopping for take out after school. Parties were split as the two went their own way and found their own friends to share secrets with.
As two grew up, so did the cups, being replaced first by carbonated beverages and later by dark roasted coffee. The fantasy of childhood daydreams of knights in shining armor forgotten for true love and future fathers of their children. The garden is gone, the cottage rotted away. The memories though, the float on.
The tea has changed as well.
A kettle singing like a siren in the middle of the night, a bag of loose black or golden chamomile swimming in a giant mug. Yet, the moment is still the same, two heads bent together in whispered secrets, one filled with sunshine and gold, one midnight and moonbeams!