When I lived in the city I hated mornings. Mornings meant facing traffic, noise and the anger of people with too much on their mind trying to cope with too much stress in too little time.

But I wake up now and watch the sun come in through the trees on a cold, crisp winter morning in the mountains and can’t seem to wipe the smile off my face.

In the city, I would have four or five cups of coffee in my system by 8 a.m. Commuting into the district meant packing myself into a crowded subway car or fighting bumper-to-bumper traffic for cover five miles in 45 minutes.

No more. I drink green tea in the morning and face a five-mile drive to the studio that will take, oh, about five minutes.

Facing the morning now means the start of a new day and each new day is a pleasant experience.