As I write this, I can feel summer at my back.
I can feel it blazing outside my window, the oppressive heat crackling on the concrete streets below, scorching the greenery, browning the skin, and leaving a hint of the earth burning in the air. It is a relentless season, one of reverie, sweat, fantasy, and adventure; best experienced with an open calendar and spirit, I believe.
As the title of this post suggests, I am a voracious reader–have been since I was a child. The daughter of an English professor and poet-cum-doctor, it was hardly surprising to find my head stuck in some novel (or two), my imagination propelled into adventures and storylines miles and miles away from my suburban environs.