Words

It rained off and on today giving us the excuse to travel to our favorite bookstore.

Blue Hill Books doesn't look like a bookstore. On the outside, a modest house-- inside it's been converted into a bookstore with an eclectic selection of books.

I could sit in one of the their many chairs and browse for hours. At one point I picked up a small book written by a woman who homesteads on Deer Isle. Not that I'd ever put up all my food, ferment vegetables, slaughter a pig for winter, or not have running water. For the a moment I envisioned what that might be like. The one bath a week might be difficult-- especially heating the water over a fire.

After writing down books I want to read I began to earnestly select a book to buy.

Not an easy decision. I finally selected The Faraway Nearby by Rebecca Solnit

And how did I pick this book? I'd like to sound erudite and give a long explanation , but it is simple.

The lines. The way words spun out into visual images.

" The way the anesthesiologist sits at the head of the patient during surgery like the host at a table."

Words are never just words.