When Rest Looks Like Reading Instead of Writing

I had planned on a summer of writing, but what I needed was a summer of reading.

I needed rest, I needed pleasure, I needed spaciousness.

I needed to go to the library and let myself be pulled to intriguing books on the shelves.

I needed to let myself devour books with no other motive than pleasure.

I needed to claim enough space for myself so I could get lost in my reading.

And oh, these books were so beautiful. What a gift to spend time with these writers and their words.

(And my apologies to the Ann Arbor District Library for waiting until the last minute to return all my books so I could take a golden hour portrait of my reading list.)