![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Reading 5-20-04
I found myself putting down a good book this morning after losing myself in it for half an hour or so. It's a reasonably serious book ("Literature," even) but I'm reading it strictly for my own pleasure, and I had to stop for a moment to reflect on how much I love reading.
This happens every year at roughly this time; somewhere in late spring I start reading again and rediscover my passion for that passtime. I imagine other people get most of their reading done during the winter, but summer is inevitably when I do most of my escaping. It's gone well beyond pattern into full-blown tradition at this point, dating back to when I was doing community service checking the card catalog at the library and made sure to just go outside and enjoy nature (and a good read) for at least an hour every day.
I get around and do stuff during the winter-- a little snow brightens up my day considerably. But during muggy, searing summer days I just want to stay next to an air conditioner and not move a muscle. So of course I get more reading done during the summer. If I want to be a little cynical, summer is usually the period of greatest change in my life; it's when I am most uncertain of my future (graduation always happens during the summer), and when I am most likely to be doing things I don't want to do (summer jobs). So of course I escape more into books.
Still, rationalizing it doesn't make it any less true. Not twenty minutes ago I was sitting on a couch with a smile on my face because I'd just slalomed down a rocky mountain of prose. Next week I'll probably be on to another book and have another smile on my face. If reading is seasonal for me, so be it: I welcome the season of escapes and look forward to a long few months of shade and rustling pages. May I read passionately until the season passes.
This happens every year at roughly this time; somewhere in late spring I start reading again and rediscover my passion for that passtime. I imagine other people get most of their reading done during the winter, but summer is inevitably when I do most of my escaping. It's gone well beyond pattern into full-blown tradition at this point, dating back to when I was doing community service checking the card catalog at the library and made sure to just go outside and enjoy nature (and a good read) for at least an hour every day.
I get around and do stuff during the winter-- a little snow brightens up my day considerably. But during muggy, searing summer days I just want to stay next to an air conditioner and not move a muscle. So of course I get more reading done during the summer. If I want to be a little cynical, summer is usually the period of greatest change in my life; it's when I am most uncertain of my future (graduation always happens during the summer), and when I am most likely to be doing things I don't want to do (summer jobs). So of course I escape more into books.
Still, rationalizing it doesn't make it any less true. Not twenty minutes ago I was sitting on a couch with a smile on my face because I'd just slalomed down a rocky mountain of prose. Next week I'll probably be on to another book and have another smile on my face. If reading is seasonal for me, so be it: I welcome the season of escapes and look forward to a long few months of shade and rustling pages. May I read passionately until the season passes.