Beltane

The fire festival of Beltane brought me to the woods again, to celebrate with friends and nature, and of course...with scotch and song. Beltane is the festival that celebrates fertility - of the land, of the livestock, of the people, and also of those people's dreams and goals.

I met a new scotch at the festival, and tasted my beloved Talisker Storm again for the first time in too long. It's intriguing how things can seem different with the passage of time. Most things change continually, of course, but even those things that don't - they generally seem to have shifted when we are away from them for enough moments. Because each moment generally alters us, if only in slight, imperceptible ways. Add enough of them to the mix, and our perspective may become completely different.

The first night I arrived just in time to set up my tent before sunset. The young moon was starting her decline for the evening as I collected my things to head down to the gathering.  I took a moment to pour myself a dram of Talisker Storm - he who I had missed. I opened the bottle slowly and approached him shyly, at first. It had been a long time, and I was afraid of what might have changed between us. His nose seemed unfamiliar at first pass, and within my chest apprehension swirled together with the excitement of reunion. His taste on my lips seemed different than I remembered, but within a few sips the warmth of his character and spice in his personality made me remember...all of the things I fell in love with were still there, and I was comforted by his presence once again.

I introduced him to folks who hadn't met him as I passed by groups of friends here and there. Most were impressed. The first night of festival is usually sparse, and it generally ends up being fairly low key. This seemed to be a fairly typical evening in that regard, and then suddenly the skies opened up with thunder and lightning, pouring rain all over the campground in a blessing fitting the season. All of the folks there gathered under the main tent and we felt the magic of community fill up the night as food and drink were passed around, and laughter and stories were shared. The storm calmed, but the rain kept to a steady fall, encircling the group of friends who also, for the most part, hadn't seen each other in too long.

The rest of the weekend ended up being dry, hot, and beautiful. The nights cooled down just enough to allow everyone to enjoy the bonfire - whether dancing, drumming, or just being there near the pulsing flames. On the last night, we had the pleasure of Kindred Crow's performance as the main headliner. Beautiful voices and a variety of instruments created an alchemy of sound that was both energized and mysterious - a perfect accompaniment to the fire and mood of the evening. Here is their song, Wild Green Magick:

A friend and fellow Scotch lover brought a bottle of a new one he had for me to meet. Glenkinchie 12 year. I hadn't heard of him, and we weren't sure where in Scotland he was from. It turns out he's one of the few remaining lads from the lowlands. The only other I had met from that region was Auchentoshen, but that was a long time ago.  We only had a short conversation, as there was much to be distracted by, but I found him warm, strong, and sweet. His nose had a light floral sense to it, and the flavors seemed complex to me. I tasted notes of lemon and vanilla, and was quite impressed by this lad, despite the lack of peat that I usually look for. He had a deep spice to his character and I felt he could truly hold his own. 

It was lovely to meet this Glen, and I'd like to have another conversation with him again one day, but Storm was there at this festival, and it had been so long... I wanted the fire of Beltane to fill all of my senses - 

to see the flames with my eyes, in all their magical colors; 

to hear the crackle and hiss, like music to my ears; 

to feel the heat, in waves upon my skin; 

to smell the smoke and ash, to my nose, from the fire and from the scotch; 

and finally to savor the taste upon my tongue - the particular flavor of fire, that with Talisker Storm, always comes. 

Whiskynotwhisky

I've been on several adventures since I last shared my stories here. This journey I'm on - to find the perfect Scotch - seems to be taking a turn. But I'll leave that until next time... Meanwhile, my most recent travels took me to California, where a friend and I stopped by a local watering hole called the Jaded Toad.

You have to love this name. I didn't ask the folks working there where the name came from, but it offers much to the imagination. Is it a twist on the fabled frog prince, who himself has grown bored with the princess? Or perhaps the twist is seeing the perspective of a toad who is just done waiting for the right princess to come along - the one that will turn him into all he knows he can be. This reminds me of Rilke's dragons - who are all just "princesses waiting to see us once beautiful and brave." But I digress...

More likely the name is not so philosphical or estoric; it is probably just a result of a random conversation from two old friends one night sharing a bottle of wine, but humor me - it's been a while, and my muse is restless...

It was a gorgeously sunny day, and the rays glimmered through trees into the comfortable "beer garden and sanctuary" of this toad-of-a-different-temperment's namesake. The tunes on the soundsystem were varied and classic. One particular song especially made my friend smile. Check out this cool version of Wild Horses...

I didn't see liquor at the outside bar, so was figuring that I wouldn't be meeting any new scotches this afternoon. But when I looked at the menu, they had a list of cocktails, so we thought perhaps they had a full bar on the inside. Our server, Kevin, soon came over to answer all of our questions

He was very friendly, and proceeded to explain that although the ingredient lists contained things like whisky, tequila, rum, etc., they were not, in fact, actual distilled spirits, but merely fermented from whichever substance was called for. Upon closer inspection, I saw that all of the items listed on the menu had an asterisk next to them which explained this. I was suspicious....yet intrigued.  So I asked if I could order a taste of their "whisky".


Okay, so when it arrived, the color looked right enough. There was only a small bit in the ball jar glass, but that turned out to be for the best.

I tasted gently, and I'm sure my eyes widened with surprise as my mouth puckered, not from sour, but sweet! Like iced tea, or dessert wine, this did not taste like any whisky I had ever met, except maybe Fireball, which can hardly be considered true whisky at all!

There was a strong flavor of cinnamon, and truly I could taste no other notes. Just like red hot candies, and the more I sipped, the closer my mind settled in. I decided that it tasted just like Goldschlager liqueur. Very interesting.

Finishing that off with a shake of my head, I consulted with my friend on our next course of action. We decided to order some mixed drinks and try them out. They arrived looking lovely and fruity - not at all like whisky, but that was okay. (They were never trying to be something they were not.) 

We sipped and shared - taking turns telling stories about life and lessons learned, choices made and those yet to be decided.  The drinks were fitting for the hot day and the time passed easily as we relaxed into the afternoon. At one point when Kevin passed by, my curiosity perked up and asked him more about the whiskynotwhisky. If it was only fermented, not distilled - what was it fermented from? His reply was, "oranges." In response, my brow furrowed in confusion, and I'm sure a quizzical look took over my face. He went to the bar just to double check, and came back with confirmation. The Jaded Toad has some magic in its midst which turns fermented orange wine into something they somehow feel comfortable calling whisky. There are certain things so mysterious one cannot dare to question further.

The drinks were delicious, and beautiful, and absolutely not whisky. 

The sunlight was strong though, reflecting an almost blinding light off of every surface it could. When something shines so brightly, it tends to put folks in a forgiving mood. Go on and shine with your awesome selves, drinks. You do you. It was a gorgeous day in California, and I was sipping and chatting with a friend. 

Sure, there were woes on our minds, and troubles in the world, and sure my whisky wasn't whisky, and the tequila wasn't tequila, but in that moment then, in the bit of world that we could see, all was well.  I'll let Mick finish this out...

"You can't always get what you want."