Driving north, the trees hung low over the road, dappled in green and gold like weathered copper.
All red leaves and rust.
The drive was not as long as it could have been, and as I drove, I methodically moved a pair of sunglasses up and down my nose, on and off, off and on, as the bright sunlight flickered and slipped through the thinning tree boughs and puffy white clouds.
I drove north, to New York, to meet an old friend. It had been six years and hundred life changes since we talked face-to-face. And though hand-written letters and emails have gotten us through these six years, it was time to hug in person again.
We met at Harney & Sons for tea and lunch, an old favorite for her and a new spot for me.
After toasted sandwiches layered with bacon and avocado, cheese and tomatoes, she showed me her favourite tins and tea accessories. We filled our baskets with treats and gifts, for a moment, ignoring cost.
Harney & Sons has a room devoted to sniffing and sampling their tea. The grid-like walls behind the tall L-shaped bar are filled with tins of loose leaf blends. She and I stood at the counter sniffing and sampling for most of our visit. We leaned on the smooth wooden bar, catching up between wiffs of jasmine green tea and sips of India's best.
As great as letters are at closing the gap, I have found it necessary never to miss an opportunity to look a friend in the eye and tell them you love them. Even if it only happens once every six years.