Growing up in New England, misty cold sea air doesn’t phase me too much but when faced with some heat, it can take me a little while to adjust.

When I stepped off the plane to meet a of my best friends, a poet named Kristian Macaron, in New Mexico, I was breathless — both the sights of the beautiful volcanic mountains AND the July heat. Albuquerque waws beautiful in ways I couldn’t describe, a fortunate instance because when I first arrived I felt too sweaty to get out a single sentence.

I took a tip from an old coffee book I read, which told of Japanese elders drinking hot soup and coffee on stifling days to help their body feel cool and I dropped into a coffee shop to grab a piping hot pour over.

Little Bear Coffee was a Bauhaus inspired oasis. The cool concrete sheltered us from the unrelenting sun and I had to fight to not press every inch of my skin against the cool tables as it leeched the high noon heat from my body. The sweet chocolate notes from the Guatemalan beans danced around with a balanced acidity that put me in such a euphoric state, I was able to forget all about the rising numbers on the thermometer, at least for a little while.