I am usually the first to rise, the first to respond to the alarm, the first to switch on lights and take charge of our morning caffeine. Two cups for him, sweetened, black, punctuated by grunts and the obligatory salutations. One cup for me, mostly milk, hot or cold depending on the season, but always freshly pressed and poured.
Mornings are dark again, my 5:00AM companion today was Venus, shining brightly on the eastern horizon in a dark, cloudless sky. The house is quiet. Few lights dot the neighborhood landscape as commuters stir and ready themselves for another day and I sit in my pink, fuzzy bathrobe; latte at hand.
We begin with good beans, fairly traded, properly ground. One of our great indulgences in the kitchen is a cappuccino machine, which presses each cup with great accuracy. I like the milk hot, but not scalding so it is ready to drink in minutes, with a light dust of nutmeg.
There are no flavored coffees in this household, no mocha, caramel, pumpkin, mint, or candy cane to mess with our morning. Ours is just plain old coffee flavoured coffee. For me, that’s flavour enough. The dark, bitterness, the taste of rain and sun and earth, from mellow to intense it is even more complex a beverage than wine. Equally as powerful in it’s stimulus, it’s how many of us start our day.
The dog stirs, she knows it’s me that will feed her. Pale colour comes to the dawn and Venus becomes less bright as the sun creeps slowly up and birds offer their song as day breaks. Soon, traffic will buzz and silence will be broken, but for now, in this moment it’s just me, the stars, and one cup of coffee.
May your morning offer a moment of quiet before you begin your day, and may your coffee be just the way you like it. Even if it is pumpkin… I won’t judge.