Oh, I read and read and read and get lost in the lives, words and the weather of the pages. Something happened. Maybe it’s the spell of September, coating all and everything with this importance of simply being present, maybe it’s the random luck with the books I can’t stop buying and gobbling up…I don’t know. I haven’t been able to read like this in a very long time, laboriously searching for the fortunate winner to sustain my attention and love to see it through…and now I am drunk with the worlds of time and place, and raise my eyes to marvel at the beauty of all the people around, their froce and vulnerability, their stories and voices. How very strange!
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