My pipe smoking hobby has been of the special occasion variety as of late. Mornings usually find me sitting upon my porch enjoying the burley leaf. I fear I have grown bored with the varieties of leaf available to me in this small town though. I have been on a robust cigar kick lately.
I have found the smoking of the pipe to be akin to a ritual not easily imparted upon craving my usual methods of imbibing nicotine. There is the ritual of filling and packing the pipe. Another ritual consists of regularly cleaning it for it to be ready to be smoked again. I tend to be far too lazy to do this on a regular basis and thus cigars have filled my need lately (to Pipe’s chagrin I don’t doubt).
I will concede that there is artistry to smoking a tobacco pipe though. Pipes have long been associated with learned and esteemed souls. You don’t think of your average professor smoking the average low brow cigarette. It is easy to picture a pipe in his hand though as the smoke from the burley leaf curls around his face; jovially imparting knowledge upon the ignorant masses as he enjoys a hobby that is best left to more noble men than I.
All this writing of pipes has made me yearn for a bowl of the burley leaf. I will once again walk out on this warm night to fill my pipe and smoke that rich leaf of tobacco. There is certainly no other taste or smell in the world than that of the smokable tobaccos that is imparted by the pipe and the tobaccos smoked within. I hope my good, jolly, pipe smoking friend will have enjoyed this post. Lord knows, I have gleaned years of enjoyment from reading his blog. Good night and until our pipes meet again.