In the dimness of the morning, in the peaceful daily resurrection of passionate labor, the roaster approaches his tools. There is a hum from the awakening city, the thrum of the rotating barrel, the rising heat filling the space. There is ritual—the sleepy pourover, the clutched mug of coffee, the calculations of pounds, origins, and orders.
And thus begins the day’s work.
Kansas City, Missouri / early morning / Broadway Café & Roasting Company
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