Mist on the Tea Hills

It is early morning, high up in the tea hills. The air is cool and fresh. We sit on a wooden bench, a warm shawl around us. Let us pull it close... and settle in.

All around us, the hills are green. Rows and rows of tea bushes curve along the slopes. They look like soft green steps, going up and down, up and down. Tall, thin trees stand here and there, giving them shade.

Down in the valley, something white is waking up. It is the mist.

Slowly... softly... the mist rolls in.

It moves like a big, quiet cloud on the ground. It does not rush. It does not make a sound. It drifts up the hill, one row at a time.

First, it covers the stream at the bottom. We can still hear the water... gurgle... gurgle... but now it is hidden.

Then it covers the lowest row of tea. Then the next row. Then the next. The green leaves turn pale and silver.

Slowly... softly... the mist rolls in.

A little bird is chirping, busy and quick. Chip-chip-chip... chip-chip-chip... The mist reaches its tree. And the bird goes quiet, as if it wants to rest a little longer.

Now the mist touches us too. It is cool on our cheeks, like a wet petal. Tiny drops sit on the shawl. Let us breathe in the cool, clean air... and breathe out slowly...

The far hills are hidden now. The little red-roofed house is hidden. The narrow path is hidden. Only soft white is left, all around us.

At first, I wonder, "Where did the world go?" But then I feel it. Everything is still here. It is only resting, under a soft white blanket.

The busy thoughts in my head grow soft too. Like the hills, they rest under the mist.

Slowly... softly... the mist rolls in.

Little one, softness is strong in its own way. It does not hurry. It does not shout. It covers everything gently, and the whole world slows down.

Later, the sun will come. The mist will lift, and the tea leaves will shine. The tea pickers will come with baskets on their backs. But not yet. For now, the world is quiet, cool and soft.

Let us rest here... wrapped in white... like the hills... like the mist... softly... softly...