As a teacher I'm not exempt from the process. On the way home from school after the last final exam is taken, I'll scurry down Romeo Plank and roll up to the Taj mahal of of literary repositories, Clinton Macomb Library - main branch. Once there I'll load up the Civic-sled with some reads that look promising. Most of which I'll never even crack the binding, but it's the beginning of vacation so optimism runs amok. I'm open for any literary suggestions so let me know if you think you have a good page-turner. I love getting up in the morning to a quiet house and the soft gurgle of Mr. Coffee brewing me up a batch of java goodness. I plug the tree lights in and settle in for a good read. No hurry. No scurry. No Romeo Plank black ice. No arctic classroom. No spit-wads propelled from adolescent miscreants.
Just tree lights, java and a good read.
Perhaps the only activity that competes with a warm, morning read is a brisk, quiet morning ride. No heart rate monitor. No cadence. No drafting. No internal fear of being lapped. No "Hold your line!" No accessories.
Just dark streets illuminated by a helmet lamp and the soft crunching sounds of hard-packed snow or crushed salt.