I open my eyes and my room is filled with darkness but I see outside my window that dawn will soon be breaking. I sit up and feel my hands reach above my head and I listen to the cracks in my shoulders as they roll back and relax into place. I wander to the kitchen, still half asleep, and scoop a few tablespoons of coarse grind into a ceramic mug with a bicycle on its side. Once my kettle has boiled and my coffee has brewed I sit down beside the window to watch the sun come up. Nearly every day of my life begins in this fashion, but I never get over the soft touch of the morning light crawling over the hills and illuminating the edges of dead pines while the rest of the earth still rests in shadows. Read more