Erik and his Pipe - Red Blend and Young Wings

Erik and his Pipe - Red Blend and Young Wings

Erik lights a pipe at home after work. Listening to the young great tits.

Thank you for sharing your time with me today and Thanks for watching!


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▬ CHAPTERS ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

0:00 Intro
0:47 Lighting my pipe
2:07 Enjoy your pipe
5:56 Story
8:12 Listening to the young birds...
8:46 condensation in the jar
9:28 just take your time
10:45 The little ones are in danger: Magpies!
12:12 the danger is over
12:54 Outro
14:40 End screen


▬ THE STORY ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

↪ This is the story in my video:

“Red Blend and Young Wings”

It was just after five when I stepped into the garden, the kind of hour when the day exhales and everything softens.
Work still clung to the edges of my mind, but the weight of the pipe in my hand promised a gentler rhythm.

I carried the small glass jar with me — not airtight, but enough to keep the tobacco from drying out.
Red Blend by Vauen: a warm mix of Virginia and Black Cavendish, smooth, slightly sweet, and always reliable.
The kind of tobacco that doesn’t ask for attention but rewards it.

I settled into my usual place — a chair I know well, with the table close enough for what matters, but far enough not to intrude.
I opened the jar, let the scent rise, and began packing the bowl.

Slowly.

The way some days need to be folded away rather than ended.

A match struck, the flame caught, and smoke unfurled into the stillness like a thought set free.

From the nearby birdhouse came the restless stirrings of young great tits.
Not fledged yet, but close.
Their calls were soft and sharp at once, like tiny flares of urgency.
I could hear wings, see shadows — the parents weaving through branches, tireless, precise.

I watched them between puffs, the pipe steady in my hand.
Time stretched.
The tobacco glowed gently, as if in quiet agreement.

Beside me, the jar caught a bit of the afternoon light.
The smoke curled over it, drifting slowly — like the waiting in the birdhouse, like the hush between effort and flight.

They weren’t ready yet.
That was fine.

Some things take their time.

And some — like tobacco, or wings — are best savored just before they rise.