One of my duties at work is to take all the day's outgoing mail to the box on the corner. It makes for a nice break in the day; every day at three I walk the length of the block, under the trees down by the park and the river, feel the wind lift my hair and breathe fresh air.

Today it is cold, so cold it hailed earlier and even though it's raining now, there is slush in the gutters from the hail. Oregon is like this; yesterday it was sunny and 75*.

I walked in the rain, my two mail bundles protected by the coat I last wore in May. The air was chilly on my fingers and cheeks and I could feel the raindrops hitting the top of my head, just spitty cat rain, nothing that could get me wet. Not that I'd want to be out in it for hours, especially not with the temperature dropping like it is.

I slipped my hand in my pockets, and then I felt it.

The flat, smooth paper pack with a slight bulge at one end.
The waxy finish and pressed edges to seal in freshness.
A packet of Stash tea.
What a sheer delight to be able to return to the office after a stroll in the chilly rain and enjoy a cup of hot tea.
How thoughtful of me to leave that in my pocket six months ago.