Welcome to Brazil!
From Fazenda Boa Vista, Brazil to Los Angeles, CA. 9,811 km
A feather in Brazil’s hat.
IN Los Angeles, I sit on a bench in Santa Monica. The sky is blue with a visible quarter moon. The sky is blue with a puff of a cloud hovering like a speech balloon. The skies are blue over a field of of rye before its applied to a mash for bourbon.
I take a sip. I close my eyes and I imagine. I imagine I might become drunk off these Brazilian winds that dismantle its spice into fragments that whisk away to me. A pear tree sits far off but not too far from a kitchen where a reduction of an abate fetel pear has me intoxicated, as if its the laughing gas.
I am thinking of bourbon – husky, low and deep. I am thinking of a sweet juicy pear with an accent of an herb, rimmed around a glass, spritz in the air before me.
I am drinking what I imagine. Bourbon, husky, low and deep. Ripened pear, bathed in an herbal mist, mint, dripped in honey. I am wondering, ‘is this drink of age?’ Yes. And, it’s innocent.
I swallow. My eyes open. Brazil, you weren’t a dream.