Morning

My favorite part of the day in my Kabul life is between six and seven in the morning. Spring is here, so the sun rises around five, and the mullahs call to prayer is my alarm clock. I roll out of bed at six, make a cup of coffee, and go outside. It's crisp and quiet, the city is just waking up. Still in my pajamas, I inspect the basil patch, the lettuce sprouts, and look if the potatoes I planted two weeks ago have made any progress. I check whether the rose bushes were damaged by last night's storm. I water the potted plants while sipping my coffee and listening to the birds singing. As Stubby the cat makes her first sleepy walk around the garden, I start thinking about the day ahead.

Kabul is at its best in the morning.