Of The Bowmore Trilogy, the man and I love the Gold best. We don't do very well as collectors of any sort of whisky. We won't be able to keep our hands off it. We love it too much. We know this bottle of Gold will definitely be unsealed and opened one day. But we just never got around to doing it.
For some reason, the stars and the moon and all cosmos were aligned today, and we met the friends. It wasn't exactly arranged or planned. It wasn't anyone's birthday nor anniversary. Nobody quit their jobs (except me- I'll celebrate next Feb), no one died, no one had a baby, no one got pregnant; no one's getting married or divorced; nobody won anything at the casino. Zilch. There was no occasion. It was just a cool rainy afternoon where the pitter patter of the rain was almost hypnotic. It was all very spontaneous. There would not be a better time than now to open the precious bottle and sip from it.
And the bears. Don't even ask me why there're bears in the photos. They just pop up, you know. They just do, out from nowhere. Always. Of course.
The man and I never intended to savor this bottle alone. It should be done with the FaerieFolk. No point hoarding. Sharing a bottle magnifies the appreciation of an exquisite single malt. So it came to pass that at sunset, we nosed the Gold and sipped the liquid that gave us fleeting moments of a fruity paradise.