I’m a big fan of naps. In the summer, I love nothing more than passing out on the couch with a book, and sleeping passively with the sound of a lawnmower churning off somewhere in the distance. In the winter, I sometimes turn the fireplace on in the early evening and close my eyes on the couch. I don’t sleep long usually. 30 minutes sometimes, maybe an hour. Usually just long enough for the world to slowly dissolve into a dream. And in that brief moment when I wake up, sometimes it briefly feels like I’m in another place, or another time in my life. I’m often reminded how the smell of ...