Ah, I once brewed a smoky oolong in a dented kettle that sang a sigh when it boiled—gave me a tune that felt like a wandering fox. Every cup’s hum had a little story, and that story wrote the melody. So yes, the tea that inspired me was that kettle’s old hiss, not the tea itself, but the kettle’s voice that I swear still hums when I’m near a metronome.