It’s a rare morning that I see Justin before he leaves for work. I’m a late riser, albeit one who is torn between the guilt of “wasting” precious hours and the joy of always getting enough sleep, of never having sore, puffy eyes. Sometimes I beg the night before to be woken early, which usually elicits a gentle response — a cup of tea on my bedside table, which invariably has to be revived in the microwave when I finally get up. Occasionally, and more effectively, I’m hounded out of bed, such as on this day in mid-August. We rose at dawn and I took this shot of Justin at sunrise. Note the work “uniform” staples — the security pass on the hip and thermos of (definitely hot) coffee in hand.