STEPPING OUTSIDE MY 16-foot Airstream Bambi, the sun starts to illuminate the sky as a thin fog rolls through the meadow. Long grass gently sways in the breeze. The birds swoop from tree to tree, dancing between the branches as they sing good morning. I hold my hot cup of coffee against my chest with one hand, the other arm cradling my laptop. I place the steaming cup under my nose and breathe deeply. I sit at the picnic table and log in to my laptop as my alarm chimes—6 a.m.
I love mornings. I
