It's made such a difference to my mornings having my little French press coffeemaker at work, and my poppy-painted Cretan coffee cup.
What is it about coffee, even decaf, that offers so much comfort and solace? The lure of copper samovars in dusty souks, the blue-tabled taverna on the harbor at Mochlos after a morning swim, the coffee berries we saw ripening red on the Kona Coast each year again . . . That isn't all of it, but some. The sensual memories stirred, the deep connection with the world evoked—so much contained there in a little cup that fits so naturally into a cupping hand.
image: Bubbles atop freshly brewed coffee in a french press, Salimfadhley
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