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闻着茶香长大，记忆里最深刻的东西就是茶叶，屋前屋后，漫山遍野的茶树，四季常青，衣袖边，发丝上都沾着茶香。

二十年来，我唯一没有放弃的就是一如既往的爱着茶，总喜欢在一个人寂静之时，陌上楼头，取清凉溪水，燃一炉炭火，拿出珍藏的茶具，置些最爱的茶叶，煮一壶香沁我心的茶水，风儿悠悠的轻抚着我默然的脸庞，冷了记忆，一把我最爱的瑶琴，一曲高山流水，浅吟低唱，婉转着整个人生的风华。

茶味似禅味，汉朝时期，茶已经成为了佛教“坐禅”的滋补品了，一杯好茶，便能带我去到那永恒不变的山水之间，一杯好茶，便能忘却这尘世间的忧愁烦恼，悠然，随心，随性。

无数个本以为过不去的夜晚，无数次陷入了崩溃的边缘，是茶，煮一壶清茶，暖了我的心，是茶，煮一壶清茶，与我共度凉夜，与我同盼黎明的第一缕曙光的降临。

茶，大自然赋予了你真情真意，你拥有天地日月间的灵气;茶，你是上苍赐给我最纯真的礼物;茶，你是我唯一的永恒。

我知道，不管世事变迁，斗转星移，你永远都不会放开我的手，你永远都不会背对着我，你也永远不会站在那儿看着我哭。

当心痛得难以呼吸的时候，当眼泪决堤的时候，你总是张开你的双手拥抱我，用你的飘渺软化着我，用你的氤氲感化着我，用你的澄明洗剂着我染了灰尘的心。

你就这样静静的，轻轻的温暖了我，感谢你的相伴，因为有你，生命一次次的重新来过。

深冬了，换了一个季节，也换了一个心情，人生的旅途又撞了一次墙壁，转了一个急弯，得到的，又失去了，曾经失去的，又在不经意间出现在了朦胧的视野里。

该整理了，怀念的，逝去了，留不住，挽不回，握在手中的，是现在拥有的，触手可及的，即使心痛得难以呼吸，即使难过的不知所措，还是要继续走下去，因为没有退路了，黄昏的夕阳将我的影子拉成了线条，煮一壶茶吧，随着清明的茶水皈依淡然。

品一杯暖茶，唇齿留香，沁入心脾，暖了我已然冷却的流年，暮然想起曾有人问过我，想要什么样的人生，那是我沉默了，再啜饮一口杯中的茶，顿时，豁然开朗，我想要的人生，茶意人生。

Growing up smelling the fragrance of tea, the most profound thing in my memory is tea. In front of and behind the house, there are tea trees scattered all over the mountains and fields, which are evergreen all year round. The fragrance of tea lingers on my sleeves and hair.

For twenty years, the only thing I haven’t given up on is my love for tea as always. I always like to go upstairs and fetch cool stream water, light a charcoal fire, take out my treasured tea set, buy some favorite tea leaves, and cook a pot of tea with a fragrance that fills my heart. The wind caresses my silent face and cools my memory. A Yao Qin, my favorite, is played on a high mountain and flowing water, singing softly and gently, conveying the charm of my entire life.

The taste of tea is like that of Zen. During the Han Dynasty, tea had become a tonic for Buddhist meditation. A cup of good tea could take me to the eternal and unchanging landscape. A cup of good tea could forget the worries and troubles of this mortal world, leisurely, carefree, and spontaneous.

Countless nights I thought I couldn’t pass, countless times I fell on the brink of collapse. It was tea, boiling a pot of tea, warming my heart. It was tea, boiling a pot of tea, spending the cool night with me, waiting with me for the first glimmer of dawn.

Tea, nature has endowed you with true feelings and meaning, and you possess the spiritual energy between heaven, earth, sun, and moon; Tea, you are the purest gift from heaven to me; Tea, you are my only eternity.

I know that no matter how things change and the stars change, you will never let go of my hand, you will never turn your back to me, and you will never stand there watching me cry.

When the heart aches hard to breathe, when tears burst, you always open your hands to embrace me, soften me with your mistiness, influence me with your mist, and touch my dusty heart with your clear cleanser.

You just silently and gently warmed me, thank you for being with me, because with you, life has come back again and again.

It’s late winter, a different season, a different mood, and the journey of life has hit a wall again, turning a sharp corner. What we have gained has been lost, and what we have lost has inadvertently appeared in the hazy vision.

It’s time to organize, cherish, pass away, cannot hold back, cannot hold back, what is in your hand is what you have now, within reach, even if you feel heartbroken and unable to breathe, even if you feel sad and at a loss, you still need to continue walking, because there is no way out. The sunset at dusk has drawn my shadow into lines, boil a pot of tea, and convert to calmness with the clear tea.

Tasting a cup of warm tea, the fragrance lingers on my lips and teeth, seeping into my heart and spleen, warming the fleeting years that have already cooled down. Suddenly, I remember someone once asked me what kind of life I want, and that’s when I was silent. Taking another sip of the tea in the cup, it suddenly became clear that the life I want, tea means life.