Heading Home at Westland Distillery

I’d heard people say whiskey takes them back to certain memories. Their grandmother baking apple pie. A back road they accidentally turned onto the summer they were 17. Reading a certain book for the first time.

They say you can’t go home again. At least you can have whiskey.

I enjoyed the notes–the creaminess, woodiness, fruitiness–but I just tasted whiskey. Not that I was discontented; I enjoy whiskey. But when I got a pour at Westland, I was transported back to a grove of birch trees in a forest in Poland, two summers prior. I could taste it all. The overcast sky that later stormed; the single oak we climbed in the sea of birch; the soft grit of moss and bark that ground into my palms. They say you can’t go home again. At least you can have whiskey.

About the Author

Rachel Bishop

Japanese and American, but not Japanese American. I like reading, writing, and drawing, and am about as clumsy as you’d expect from that description. Last googled “social habits of penguins”. Rachel’s Vibes: traveler, wanderer, fan of plants