the autumn of my content
It’s getting to be that time again. Autumn is fully flowered and hints of winter are starting to crackle along the Northern Hemisphere. Soon many of us will withdraw into the comfort of old sweaters, of family recipes for stew and soup, of steaming cups of tea and coffee and cocoa. And books.
This is a time for re-reading favorite books, the ones with the corrugated spines and the worn covers. The books you’ve read and set aside to be read again. The books that conform to your hands like old gloves. The books that make you smile, that make your heart beat faster, that warm your heart, that remind you that the slo-mo act of reading masks an interior liveliness of which only you are aware. Your body might be enfolded in comfort, but your imagination is out there…out there.
These old books are as wonderful as fresh-baked bread, toasted and buttered, served on a chipped saucer inherited from your grandparents. It’s getting to be that time again, and while the cold may not be welcome the books will be happy to see you again.
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