I love being the first to wake up and rise on hot, summer mornings. When I step out of my bedroom I am greeted by scents that fermented during the night: the lingering perfume of incense long turned into ashes, the variegated smell of books and paper, and the woody aroma of antique furniture. I then open the sliding doors on the ground floor and the breeze brings in the scents of the bright, outside world. Night turns to day, yin to yang, darkness to light, death to life, dreams to waking reality.