I try to remind myself to breathe. Just like my favorite Bodum french press, I need a little air room – a little light filtering in. I try to allow for space to decompress.

The compression in my Bodum forces the hot water so that it surrounds rich, course-ground beans, at which point it whispers and romances them until they bloom into a luscious cup of black, aromatic goodness. And after the necessary plunging comes release. A deep breath. Colorado air in the glass pot. A deep Bethany breath as my hands meet the warm mug. A moment to enjoy the way the sunshine plays on our butcher block island.

Yes. Breathing space. Blooming. Compression. Release.





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