It’s been really hard for me to write about Wenshan Baozhong. It’s one of the most amazing experiences I have ever had. It’s subtle, and even small changes in temperature and steeping times really transform it. It starts out as a round edge that passes into sweetness, with the grassy flavor making a sunlit bed beneath them. Halfway between an oolong and a green tea, it is neither, situating itself perfectly between the two in the spectrum.
The tea was recommended to me by the teahouse as an entry point into oolong. I was told it’s a perfect introduction, since it makes you think about the extremes of both an oolong and a green. It’s absolutely true. As the flavor reaches your senses, you can isolate specific wholeness of oolong at times, if you focus, and at other times it is light and airy, like a delicate green tea.
The subtleness of the tea, and how much it changes reminded me of a rapid passing of time, from the morning of green tea to the late afternoon sun of an oolong. I learned so much from this tea.
I came across a moment in a painting I made that I had forgotten. It was a careful color shift between two kinds of red, and when I really looked the difference was striking. In the same way, Wenshan Baozhong allows me to perceive all other aspects of tea with greater care.
The teashop said that they actually focus on different teas at different times of the year, for their personal enjoyment. The greens were explored in Spring, the Oolongs in Fall, and the Black Teas in winter. Can I become more aware of the spaces in-between the seasons, just as I am becoming aware of the movement of these two kinds of tea.
I will try to remind myself to look at these changes as a delicate shift, and less of a solid marking of the passage of the earth around the sun. The earth is always moving, no matter what I say it is doing or not.