The Weight of Morning

There is a specific gravity to the start of a day. Before the city wakes, before the noise begins to layer itself over the stones, there is only the movement of the essential. We carry what we need to survive. It is a quiet labor, performed in the gray light that precedes the sun. We do not think of the history beneath our feet or the weight of the years held in the walls around us; we think only of the warmth in our hands. To provide is to move forward, one step at a time, through the narrow passages of our own making. The bread is still warm. It is a small, heavy comfort against the chill of the morning air. We are always carrying something, aren’t we? A burden, a gift, or simply the necessity of the next hour. What do you carry when the world is still asleep?

Afnan Naser Chowdhury has captured this quiet rhythm in the image titled Transporting Freshly Baked Bread. It reminds me that even in the oldest places, life is measured by the simplest of tasks. Does the scent of the bread reach you as well?