The sun's not up. The garage door is a wall of black penetrated only by the sounds of soft rain, crickets and rustling leaves. After a charring light the second match is successful. Besides the smoldering ember feeding smoke down the stem there is a wisp of smoke rising from the bowl which the slight draft is feeding right into my face and allowing me to breath it in through my nose. This first light lasts 15 minutes. The Lapsang Souchong at my elbow is now at perfect drinking temperature. When it is gone I pop inside and make a second cup of tea - Earl Grey this time. The outline of the trees are visible now and the birds are awake. The nicotine is upon me. The smoke is getting stronger and thicker and a cloud hangs about my face. I'm tempted to inhale. Maybe I do. Manna from Heaven. The last 20 minutes are the best part. The tobacco is gone - a 90 minute smoke. Is every smoke this good? No. But this is why I smoke a pipe.
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