Coffee, film cameras, and the occasional long walk.
The kitchen is colder now, and that changes everything about the brew. I have been grinding a touch finer, pre-heating the dripper for longer, and finally admitting that my kettle loses four degrees on the walk from the stove…
I brought the old rangefinder out on the wettest day of the month. Half the roll is blurry umbrellas, but the other half has a softness I could never get on purpose…
A washed Ethiopian that tastes like jasmine tea, a chocolatey Brazilian for the moka pot, and a weird anaerobic Colombian I am still not sure I like…
Twelve kilometres, two flasks, and one very confused heron. Notes from the longest day of the year…