Snapping branches release fragrant bursts of black sage into the cool afternoon breeze. The nameless Big Sur hillside sprinkled with humans sustainable pruning bushes for their natural, essential oils. Lilac, velvet, and aubergine piles of spring trimmings would soon boil down to glycerites tinctures, as made by Juniper Ridge. A transformative process of plants to nectar. Like worker bees churning pollen to honey.
This is just a snapshot of Big Sur. Olfactory nostalgia and all. Hazy memories from a few days work—bottling a place for all around the world to enjoy.
Lush blankets of saffron goldfields marks home. Live oak shade us from the intermittent coastal sun. Walls of poison oak growth and charred manzanita make natural boarders between us and everything else. Just over the rocky ridge, fields of tall thin, flowering lupine beckon, and streams of winter’s snow runoff babble and swirl.
“Tomorrow, y’all wanna hike to a swimmin' hole?”
You know the answer.
