The Gentle Balance of White Tea

September in Oregon is a season that can’t quite make up its mind. Some days feel like summer is still holding on with its golden light and warm breezes, while others carry the cool hush of autumn, whispering that change is here. After the quieter rhythm of summer in the shop, I find myself ready to step fully back into tea season, and white tea feels like the perfect companion for this moment.

There is something about white tea that naturally belongs to the in-between. The leaves are treated so gently—just plucked, withered, and dried—that they carry a purity no other tea can quite match. Their flavors linger delicately, soft and floral yet grounded with a quiet depth. In the same way Oregon hovers between summer brightness and autumn comfort, white tea holds both energies at once.

This year, I’ve been reaching for four white teas that seem to embody that seasonal push and pull. Prakash, from the Himalayan foothills of Nepal, unfolds with sweet, creamy notes and a chestnut warmth that feels like slipping into a favorite sweater for the first time each fall. Nilgiri, from the hills of Southern India, offers a lighter touch—floral, airy, and refreshing, like those last lingering days of summer when the sun still hangs high and golden. Together, they balance each other: one leaning into autumn’s embrace, the other reminding us that summer hasn’t quite let go.

Closer to home, Stumptown Chai brings Portland’s lively spirit into the mix. Its ginger brightness and subtle citrus dance on the silky base of white tea, creating a blend that feels both playful and grounding. It’s a tea that bridges seasons effortlessly—zesty enough for summer evenings yet spiced enough to foreshadow cozy autumn nights. Then there’s Hood River Mint, with its cooling blend of mint, rosemary, eucalyptus, and rose buds. It carries the fresh breath of the Columbia Gorge, crisp and green, like a walk through orchards where summer’s life still hums even as the nights grow cooler.

What I love about these teas, especially now, is how they remind me that the season doesn’t have to be one thing or another. September is not just summer or fall—it is both, layered together, shifting back and forth, teaching us to savor the in-between. White tea captures that lesson in every sip: bright but soft, light yet grounding, fleeting and timeless all at once.

As the days grow shorter and the shop fills again with the hum of tea drinkers returning after summer, I can’t help but feel grateful for this gentle season of transition. With a pot of white tea on the table—whether it’s Prakash, Nilgiri, Stumptown Chai, or Hood River Mint—I’m reminded that change doesn’t have to be rushed. We can linger here for a while, in the delicate balance between what was and what’s to come.