I'm always amazed when I hear people talk about looking forward to long, endless hours in the sun spent reading. Lazy days, with nothing to do but turn the pages of a good book.
Summer is the season I read the least. I struggle to squash reading into days filled with hiking, gardening, lawn mowing, rowing...ah, the list is endless! Summer? Long, empty hours? Not here.
Here, winter, with its howling winds and snowy days, is the time when I read the most. That's when hours stretch and I sit beside a roaring fire and lose myself between the pages of a good story. When darkness falls early but no one notices because we've all been cozied up inside all day long. My husband carves or reads beside me, and we sip tea and eat chocolate chip cookies. Yes, winter is definitely my best reading season.
So while I'm thrilled to see bluebirds in our birdhouses and buds on the daffodil stems, I'm a bit saddened to see my premier reading hours draw to a close. Between staking tomatoes, deadheading flowers and pottering in the greenhouse I'll manage to read but it won't be the same. I won't inhale books. Instead I'll read them in snatches, greedily devouring stories one stolen moment at a time.
Sounds like fun, doesn't it? Any time is a good time for a story if you're a book lover. But reading, like everything else, has its seasons. My dry spell is around the corner, but I'll still enjoy myself and I'm sure I'll get a bunch of great books read. Still, it will be a game I play, sqeezing a book in between an activity.
What about you? Do you have a time of year where you read more than others? Or are you one of those constant, even readers who's not really affected by the seasons? I'm curious, so please share.