Coppell, TX
They say in that moment where your breath stops, your heart falters and suddenly the world slows down around you, that it’s not that particular moment forming a memory; it’s the journey it took to get to that moment. The journey we take to reach any goal or aspiration forms what happens the moment we reach the target. It’s the footsteps you took, the people whose eyes locked with yours in passing, the sunbeams that birthed your shadow, that determine the value of the moment. It is because of this value in the journey, that George: Coffee & Provisions was quickly a favorite before I had even tasted the coffee.
The journey to George started two weeks previously when I was informed that I would be going to Fort Worth, Texas for a Business Enhancement Conference for the clinic I work at. As the weeks went on, the days got hard. Life started throwing endless trials at me and two days before I was set to leave, I realized that even though I was excited to go to the conference, I needed to break out of the work norm. Instantly I knew that this was the perfect opportunity to find new coffee shops. I dug into the itinerary for the weekend and discovered that I would have two opportunities to go out and about: right after landing and right before take off. Quickly I went to a Google search knowing that I had to have a plan of what shops I wanted to visit before going if I was going to maximize my two hour window. It was in the depths of this search that I found George: Coffee & Provisions. I was instantly drawn in by the pictures. The large white house; a mix of what you would imagine on a plantation and a farmhouse was all it took for me to know that if I made it nowhere else in Texas, George was the place I needed to go to.
Day of, 3:30 am and the alarm was pleading me to get out of bed, to scramble the necessities together and get to the airport before my flight left without me. 6 hours, a hotel room and an uber ride later I was within eight minutes of the coffeeshop that blessed my dreams. Little did I realize that this coffee shop’s experience was going to begin the moment I entered the Uber. The driver was from Pakistan and we instantly started talking about the weather...classic right? As the conversation transitioned, we started talking about childhood, life, God and His amazing grace. I learned that my name in Pakistan is a word used for loneliness. It dictates a man who has been left alone and sorrows as such. With a beautiful twist at the end of my name, it becomes a woman trapped in her loneliness. He joked about how I looked like the classic movie star, the woman you would expect in Victorian Ages or strolling as a character in Little House on the Prairie. Before I left, I lightheartedly took the notepad he offered me and wrote the words “For the day I become a star” and signed my name...or loneliness depending on how you want to look at it.
The moment my feet touched the ground from his car I spun to see the shop. That was my moment. The moment where every step, every tear, every late-night-stress-eaten brownie suddenly became worth it. I could feel my soul filling. This was my spot. This was my inspiration. I was on my my knees, camera balanced perfectly to capture the shot before the driver had even closed the door.
The shop was everything I had pictured and more. A white picket fence outlined it’s sidewalk and a beautiful arch with vines growing up it beckoned for you to swing open it’s quaint gate and join the adventure inside. A row of rocking chairs, picnic benches and hanging lights offered a comfortable outdoor environment if the weather had been warm enough to enjoy it. A series of square pop up gardens lined the front yard with a variety of vegetables waiting for the weather to change so that they could grow.
Opening the door of George felt like going home. A large open living room invited you in with a fireplace to the right and a small meeting room tucked into the privacy of the library on the left. Benches, couches and private round tables offered a catered environment for anyone coming inside. The coffee counter, lining the back wall was decorated with large globe lights hanging above. The staff was friendly and I ordered and paid with ease that only comes with my favorite coffee shops back home. While they began the process of the Ethiopian Pour Over I had ordered, I wandered the halls of the shop and was delighted to find private booths down the hallway before entering a large open room with stained wood ordaining the vaulted ceiling. It offered an intimate atmosphere with upbeat yet pleasant music in the background.
Back at the counter, the barista lured me away from the camera lense and into conversation by asking what I was shooting. We quickly broke into easy conversation and I learned that he was a professional photographer and his good friend, a professional videographer, created his videos with the same camera I was taking pictures with. After finding him on Instagram so we could witness the photographs produced from each others journeys, I wandered back to the room hidden in the corner and nestled into a small table surrounded by windows framing the view outside.
It was here, that I finally got to try the coffee I had traveled over 800 miles for. It was crisp, smooth and chocolatey. The well balanced flavoring of rich milk chocolate and a touch of walnut. This was the cup of coffee my journey had been for. The cup of coffee that helped me forge friendships in this new town and find the beautiful work of another photographer. This was the cup of coffee that if I had made it at home, I would have smiled in delight, patted myself on the back and known that it been made exactly the way a cup of coffee should be.
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