My favorite time of the year is summer. I love picnics, berries of all kinds and their requisite desserts, swimming, sunbathing, fresh corn on the cob, sundresses, ice cream outings, flip flops, homegrown tomatoes and green beans from the garden…the list goes on and on.
But another thing I love about summer is reading—which is a funny thing to say, since I read all year-round. But I love reading in summertime: on the beach, or on the grass in Prospect Park (the beautiful park near my home in Brooklyn). For whatever reason, I find I am still tied to the “school year” calendar even though I haven’t been in school in ages, and because of that, the reading I do in summer seems somehow more pleasurable—more fiction, less nonfiction; more things I want to read, not just things that have been on my shelf for six months.
I read some great books this summer—a series of mystery novels that were pure fun, a literary novel recommended by a friend, a young adult novel that I’m technically too old for but nevertheless enjoyed. And what’s so marvelous about all of this reading is how it connects me to my past—to the girl who used to laze away summer days, reading a good book on the grass.
That’s what I did on my summer vacation. I hope yours was just as lovely!
