Silver Apples of the Moon

Something about counting the days always makes them go faster. It’s incredible we’re three days into this project. (The Dawlish Dachshunds add it’s incredible we still haven’t dedicated a poem to them but hold that thought.)

Today’s tea is Apple Cider, continuing the run of good tea selections. More like this please! And can we put in a request now for none of these coffee-tea hybrids? If we wanted coffee we’d drink it!

Apple Cider is a herbal tea. We made our first pot after the statutory afternoon Dachshund walk. (Cue much protesting. Dachshunds only fight for their right to a walk in warm, sunny weather.) It’s made with lots of apple, some blackberry leaves for contrast and a hint of vanilla.

It really does taste of apple cider, which is something else we have nostalgic memories of. We used to get cups of it after sleigh rides out west. There were horse-drawn sleighs and bridal paths, and it wasn’t too cold, because this was around March. We used to roast marshmallows over candles while drinking real apple cider.

Or, as we called it, Kid’s Tea. Ki’ds Coffee being hot chocolate. Obviously.

Our only gripe with this tea is that it’s herbal. It’s a lovely tea, but it’s incredibly sweet, and a white or a green tea base would round it out beautifully. Especially because it sweetens as it steeps.

But if you want a drink that gives you an afternoon hug and tastes like sleigh rides, it’s perfect.

Here’s a poem to go with it. We promised this one to the purveyor of the still-pending Advent Calendar because everyone should read it at least once. Appropriately, it even mentions apples.

Song of the Wandering Aegnus
By William Butler Yeats

I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire a-flame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And someone called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done,
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.

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