The Most Magical Place in the World
I love bookstores.
Whenever I enter one and the scent of coffee and pages rushes over me, I can't help but feel a wriggle of excitement.
There's nothing like walking in a bookstore and curling up amongst all the intriguing, bright, colorful covers just begging to be picked up and fingered through...I'm always sized with a hungry yearning to read as much as I can and read every book on the shelf my eye can see.
It awakes a hunger for learning, to delve into new worlds, to laugh, to grip the pages in tense anticipation at the sudden danger my hero finds himself or herself in, the urge to carpe some diem and go live my life to the fullest, to peer in the intricate, quirky minds of others (much like peeking into a free spirit's house). Reading fills me with a desire to soldier on, to find the magical nuances of life - the captivating instances that wait, beckoningly, for us to become the heroes in our own story.
I read to escape.
I read to connect with characters.
I read to have adventures.
I read to live.
(New post on Graceful Eats about stepping back to take some R&R - Knowing When Enough Is Enough)