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I love books.

{ this is an understatement }

There is a very large bookshelf in my kitchen, filled to capacity. Another one half that size beside my computer desk. Two more in the living room. Boxes of books under the stairs. Baskets filled on shelves in our bedroom. Even a box in Logan's closet.

{ plus some more in my old room at home, and my parent's garage.
Ty may or may not know about these }

But there are several books that are never far from me. They are tattered from being carried from purse to purse, carried to work to read on breaks, kept in the car for trips longer than 10 minutes, pulled out and read while waiting in line to get food or pay for groceries.. you get the idea.

Towards the end of summer, when I can feel fall coming (and it's coming soon, no matter what you think--it's going to be a long, hard winter), I am drawn back to these books. Moby Dick. Romancing the Ordinary. Anything by Thoreau. Into the Wild. Poems by Rod McKuen (he is never far from me; I almost always have a copy of him with me). Under the Tuscan Sun. The Count of Monte Cristo (this book changed my life). Lord of the Rings.

What I've gained
from being with you
(besides a belly 
and a deeper beard),
I couldn't say--
but any need for knowing
anyone but you
   is what I've lost.
{ Rod McKuen } 

I never was much of a fad reader; I didn't enjoy the first Twilight book (I know I'm making enemies here, but I prefer my vampires sans-sparkle), I never got into Harry Potter. A friend asked me the other day what I was reading, and I spouted off no less than 17 books.

{ did I mention I love books? }

I love to see what other people are reading, and can appreciate why they like it, even if I don't care for it myself. The books people read are a quick, accurate insight to their minds.

Given that, I learn so much about myself from books. Sometimes, I can't quite put my finger on what it is that draws me to a certain read. Especially this time of year. For the past few years, this time of year, I always pick up Thoreau, Into the Wild, and, starting last year, The Last Season has made the list. Commonality? Wilderness. Solitude. Wishing I lived in the time of John Muir.

It is no different this year.

"Keep close to Nature's heart... and break clear away, once in awhile, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods. Wash your spirit clean." { John Muir }

Fall is coming. I smell it every morning. I've started cooking comfort food again, pulled out the sweaters. I even got out our down comforter and am airing it out. { I've even slept soundly in it a few nights already. Ty has not. }

{ I guess I never was much of a summer person. I wait the entire season for it to get colder. } 
I can't be the only one out there this way... even if it's not about fall and winter. 

2 Responses so far.

  1. Autumn is my favorite season.

    I love you!


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