Book Weather

Rainy gray cold after our sunny weekend drove me to a favorite indoor destination, John K. King Books, famous among bibliophiles everywhere.

I do a lot of research and reading on my laptop, but it's not the same as reading a real book.
Or visiting a temple of books like this, with more than four floors and a million books.

This place is as much curiosity shop and history museum as it is bookstore, with its vintage paintings, photos, posters, and knick-knacks.

It's easy to get side-tracked by the beautiful old books, with their faded bindings and embossed gold lettering, the illustrations artfully engraved.

Sometimes I just like to read the dedications, or the names of those who owned the book before. Owning an old book feels like being part of an unbroken chain of a secret society.

I just moved to a new place. I only have a box or so of books (of about twenty) unpacked. You may want people with books for friends, but you probably don't want to help them move.

When I unpack an old favorite, I remember the characters and words in it like old friends. I, too, along with all the hands and minds that came before me, loved this book.