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The Secret of Gossamer Mornings

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There’s a hum in the air, a suspension of sound, as if we are wrapped in fine silk. On the stubby grass, the shadow-line of the patio roof is a jagged fissure edged with dark and bright green blades. The scent of ornamental pink pepper wafts in the cool morning breeze.

I breathe and consciously set aside the weight of life for the gossamer morning. A cup of Guatemala in a handmade mug leaves a faint circle on the dust-covered wooden table as I sip and ponder.

This morning, there is sun, there is shade, and there is a daughter dwarfed by my red sun-hat. It promises to be a good day.

–Anaheim, CA / mid-morning / Coffea Roasterie, SD

How to Enjoy a LA Traffic Jam

IMG_4725Driving in LA is like hiccuping. The traffic lurches forward then peels to a halt. We are ants crawling with our noses to each other’s abdomens. Bumper stickers, dust, and dents reveal personality. Instead of staring at skin and clothes, we assess each other’s carapaces. We’re stalled on the 91 West, headed toward Kean Coffee in Tustin. To our right is a weathered brick wall, with streaks of guano and climbing vegetation like lace dripping in green and brown. Palm trees reveal their rough thighs as they lift their fronds to the sky. The affogato was worth it.

Orange County, CA / early afternoon / Kean Coffee, CA