I go out to the kitchen, pour water into the kettle, and at that moment the city and I seem to start moving in unison. It — with cars, steps, phone rings. I — with a spoon in a mug, a click of a switch, a morning glance out the window.

Morning is the moment when everything seems possible. Even if there’s an ordinary day ahead. Even if there’s a lot to do, traffic jams, fuss. Morning still carries potential. It doesn’t know how your day will go. It just gives you a chance to start it from scratch.

I love mornings not for the silence — there’s none here. I love the morning for the feeling of movement, for the smell of coffee, for the way the sun breaks through between the houses.