“Light on please.”
Continual warning signs along Central Cross-Island Highway doesn’t do any help to the chilling temperature around my car.
“Treasured tea hides deep.” A shivering man must think positive all the way up the mountain.
Already lost counts on my times up here, because Yeh always counts me in at tea-picking seasons, for fresh tea tasting.
Other than pears, Lishan is known for beautiful tealeaves;
2000 meters above, Lishan tea region enjoys exceptional advantages of
short daylight duration and dramatic temperature drops,
nurturing rich pectin and less Catechin, enriching sweetness in tea soup and reducing astringent,
making the name of the most authentic alpine tea.
“You’re late this year man!” yelled the tea-makers at me entering the factory.
Kind of caught at the scene, I said, “You must have kept some for acquaintance like me, right?”
“Let’s go to the tea garden first, Yeh’s already waiting.”
A senior tea-maker volunteered, grabbing keys to the pick-up truck.
Another frightening mountain road ahead.
I buckled up the seat belt, recalling the annual journey combined with one-way path,
steep hill and nearly fifty minutes car distance.
“Yeh sir!” seeing him weighing the freshly picked tealeaves as usual, I called kiddingly.
“There you are.” Yeh answered without looking away from the leaves.
It’s obvious no one distracts him at work, so I led myself enjoying scenes of masters delicately picking tealeaves,
their flushing cheeks under crystal blue sky showed a perfect time for tea-making.
Years of cooperation with Yeh never reduces my respect to the manual work and gratitude to each drop of such valued tea.
“Relax, we’ve saved your share of tea.” Yeh said to me on our way back.
Expecting wonderful tea taste, I smiled, “What if I demand for more portion?”
“It’s never enough for the market, however yearly lesser we expect from the mountain.
I would if I could but I can’t!” Yeh didn’t hesitate about how limited the production is becoming.
Reminded of the fact, I couldn’t find words to comfort him.
Of course I always joke around for more portion, but the truth is,
as Yeh’s words, we must give our environment time to rest.
“My deepest gratitude, Yeh.” I waved goodbye solemnly.
“Dude, get home before it turns dark!” Yeh walked me all the way to the entrance.
Mountain overnight with fresh made tea, I set for home peacefully.
A gentle cup of tea always warms up your body and soul.
Once worried about fake alpine tea sources and pesticide residue,
I now have 100% confidence in this tea,
in our test results,
and in the friendship.
The real Alpine Oolong grows above Cui Feng,
beneath altitude 2300 meters of Lishan,
where yearlong snow irrigation and low temp rain drops brews up the purest sweetness of nature.
We present you, SNOW DROP ALPINE TEA.