I’ve had a slow start to my reading year. As I mentioned before, the year 2015 was a year of no rereads for me and now that the ban on rereads has been lifted, I’m not sure how to dip my toes back into old reading waters. Strangely, I picked up Jane Eyre and Star Wars: Heir to the Empire simultaneously from my bookshelves downstairs. Although, I haven’t read either one of them in over a decade, they aren’t satisfying my reading palate. Now, that I’ve spent a year in uncharted waters, I want to continue exploring. (Yes, I keep switching my metaphors. I do that.) Despite the dozen or so books inside my nightstand table, something tells me that I’ll be spending time this weekend perusing my “to read” list on Goodreads. I’ve got the itch.
Of all the authors I missed last year, I missed Lucy Maud Montgomery the most. Because I had read all of her works, I was unable to visit with her in 2015. I truly love all of her works, but it’s safe to safe that Anne of Green Gables is my first love. My love for that book goes beyond words. I enjoyed the 1985 miniseries adaptation nearly as much. It leaves a beautiful, little ache inside of me every time I watch it. The Canadian painter, James Hill, painted an original movie poster for the movie and every time I see it, it feels like spring. (Google it. Due to copyright laws, I don’t feel comfortable posting it here. Although, I wish I could.)
That poster is infused with nostalgia. It reminds me of the summer of 2004, which was the first time I recall seeing James Hill’s poster. That summer has gone down in history as being the summer of summers. It’s not that I did much. I had my summer job and was looking forward to my last year at university. What made that summer so memorable was my perception. In my spare time, I read LMM’s Emily trilogy, Robert Frost and Emily Dickinson poetry and wrote in my journal(s). I recall reading Jurassic Park and Wuthering Heights, too. Stuff happened that summer in my personal life and…stuff didn’t happen that I wanted to happen. I know that’s pretty vague, but that’s as personal as you’re going to get from me right now. Anyway, rather than giving into those azure feelings, I read and wrote and allowed the LORD to speak into my life and, before my eyes, it became a great summer. It was the first summer, since becoming an adolescent, that I was quiet inside. Although, I don’t think it’s healthy to spend time lamenting days gone by, I still look back to the summer of 2004 fondly. It’s a bundle of feelings, but the pervasive feeling, the lingering note is one of peace.