At eight a.m., when daylight yawns,
And dew still clings to grass and stone,
We gather with our mugs and maps,
A cheerful crew, no longer alone.
Steam curls up from ceramic cups,
Like secrets rising from the ground,
GPS screens softly glow,
As friendly greetings pass around.
Some bring tales of tricky finds,
Of logs signed tight in hollow trees,
Of puzzle caches cracked at midnight,
Or hikes that climbed through mud and breeze.
Coffee warms our sleepy hands,
Laughter wakes the morning air,
While trackables trade journeys
From backpacks worn with care.
No treasure box is opened here,
we'll all just take a seat.
The real find’s this shared moment
At our geo-coffee meet.
Then one by one, we drift away,
To places near and far,
8:45 leaves us richer still—
Fueled by caffeine, friends, and stars. ☕🧭