Morning tripped the breakers long before the circuit of sleep wired me to wake. The brain’s earthworks of half-turned fallows sowing already for this winter’s prematurely warm day. Marcelo stirs, turbid, distracted, the churning of a new mind, still forming unevenly. We stopped downstairs at Monkey Cup for my usual coffee and a croissant for our little growth spurt. We followed inertia steering toward Morningside Park, but our young compass righted the ship, and we found ourselves by the fire tower in Marcus Garvey Park, two red-tailed hawks unsettling the squirrels. Though they’re a common presence in this landscape, sighting one always reassures me (partly because of this), and being among this hunting pair gives me hope for our little family.