
The first time a tea session took me on a journey in my mind
This morning I had a session of 5g of 2025 Traditional Process Dian Hong Black Tea of Feng Qing from Yunnan Sourcing. It was the bottom of the bag, so the leaves and buds were fairly broken. My collection is stacking up, so I'm trying to finish off the various bags of less than 10g I have scattered around the boxes. I brewed it with flash infusions in my 100ml gaiwan with ~95°C water from my giant thermos into my new lovely 200ml bowl I got from the Asian market. A very unassuming setup that gave me an unforgettable session.
I drank the first infusion/wash, and it was very thick, floral, and chocolate malt sweetness, but there was of course the hollow and sour taste of the wash. The first real infusion was even sweeter and was ripe with antique wood, darker cacao, and strawberry. I was surprised to be feeling the cha qi already, but the tea was the only thing I had had this morning.
Anyways, on the next infusion, I experienced the most clear daydream I have ever been lead on by tea so far. The antique wood note turned into a very vivid vision of walking through deep, dark woods and the taste of heavy brown maltiness and cooked fruit. The tannins were pleasantly active on my tongue, going from gripping to juicy with an airy floral finish. With the next infusion, the taste became far more green, the darker flavors fading into the background, but the floral aromatics remained active. I was surprised to find myself walking out of the woods and into a field of tall grasses and wildflowers and towards a winding stream. The first sensation that hit me on this infusion was actually a cool, sunny warmth on my face.
A strong honey note came out with the next brew, and I could tell the tea was on the downswing, which made sense with how broken the leaves were. The taste wasn't as strong as I would've liked, but I appreciated the gentleness of it. I felt as if I wandered over to a tree that had a beehive dripping with honey and buzzing with friendly bumblebees, and I laid down to sleep in its shade. I brewed the next one a bit longer and was rewarded with the malty depth making a reappearance. It felt like the humid chill of evening was covering the land as the sun was setting. The brew almost tasted like a purple tea and made me feel I was drifting off to sleep. The final real brew was fairly weak, despite extending the brew time further, but faint notes of spices and the last kiss of honey came out, and my imaginary self was definitely asleep.
This was one of the most transformative, impactful, and pleasant sessions I've ever had. It was such an unassuming tea from last year that I only chose in order to finish off the bag, since my collection of shipments in my tea corner is becoming a wall of cardboard that I need to sort and consolidate.
Has anyone else had a similar experience to this?