Tea-Mountain Days

I sometimes find life in the tea mountains boring. Yet in that boredom, my attention turns toward nature. When I think about how people live with nature, I think first of the tea mountains, and of ordinary moments that take time to understand.

In the earlier footage, water passes over rocks, a fire burns in the stove, and fresh leaves lie on a bamboo tray. A hand reaches in, lifts some leaves, feels them and gives them a squeeze. Nature and human action share the frame, drawing attention to a particular question: when is it right to continue?

One late-night scene records a judgement made after the leaves had been spread out for eight hours. Their condition still had to be checked by hand. Elapsed time and the changes in the leaves both inform the decision. Experience is used in these small distinctions; waiting remains part of the work.

Living with nature involves responding to particular things. A person can act, then pause to look again. The work changes the material, and that change affects what happens next. Even a familiar process holds something that needs fresh attention each time.

I want to keep looking at these ordinary moments, and thinking about my own relationship with what surrounds me. With time, the questions become more specific: what can a person decide, what calls for waiting, and what remains after an action? The tea mountains have drawn my attention to these questions.