Right now, the workshop is unusually quiet.

The cutting machines have stopped, the overhead cranes are idle, and only a low hum from the vents remains. The equipment on both sides is neatly arranged — the mash tuns stand side by side, the fermentation tanks line up in rows, their shiny surfaces reflecting the light from the overhead tubes. The wooden pallets in the shipping area are already prepared, tightly wrapped in protective film, just waiting for the trucks to arrive tomorrow to begin their respective journeys.

This quiet moment is the full stop after the last round of busyness, and also the comma before the next. The equipment awaits departure, and the workshop awaits its next wave of liveliness.