Old books, tattered, torn, full of ancient words written who knows how long ago. To some they may appear ugly, good for nothing but the trash heap. Really, look at them. They have seen better days, but they are a beautiful testimony to the power of the written word. They didn’t gain their present condition and status just sitting around on a shelf. These books were read. They were absorbed. And now they sit, a mute testimony to the power of the written word. Ancient words.
Books. I love books. There is just something about the smell of a book, the feel of the paper and the binding, the sound of the spine cracking the first time a new book is opened. Books are comfortable. Sometimes I just sit and look at my small library and remember the things I have read, the places I have been, the history I have felt, the people I have met. Books. I love them.
A book is not simply read, it should be absorbed. Often, I will sit with a book, absorbing the richness of the text, then close my eyes and reflect on what I have read. The words will come alive in my mind’s eye, and I will become part of the scene. Quiet times with my books. That is what reading is about.
After some time away from reading I have returned to my books. It is good to be back my old friends.