I gave the small dry tea nuggets a quick hot water rinse, then sniffed at the pot — floral bliss! Dr Oolong, co-owner of Zhi Tea, describes aroma of wildflowers, but that fails to capture the richness of my olfactory experience. For me, the light gold oolong broth wafted forth orchid and lilac, with light honey notes. The sweet scent clung so strongly to the empty cup that I couldn’t take my nose out of it. That’s how I want to die — with my nose in a honeyed cup! (any innuendo found in that exclamation, ahem, surely originates in the mind of the reader) Yes, I’m an old bird whose sensuality often, these days, finds itself swimming in a cup of tea. My family, I think, considers my tea obsession a blessing, a diversion which keeps me too busy to venture far onto the wild side. My old bones second that emotion. “Teadrunk nights are quite enough,” they agree. So my hat’s off to those tiny bugs which chewed these leaves and made this tea so special! I got four good infusions, too.