A few days after I found my “new” walking boots, I was looking through my book collection for something to read. I say collection, it's not that large, perhaps two to three hundred books. It is mainly the ones that have survived various culls over the years. Books that I have read, or unlikely to read, I often give to charity shops.
Books can take up a lot of space. When I was a young boy, I lived near a couple of neighbours who had large book collections, all in book cases that covered the walls of a room in their house. Between them, they could have opened a bookshop. I wondered if I would ever have the same, not a bookshop, but a house with a room or a study with lots of books. The answer has turned out to be no. The books I have tended to be housed in different places, some stored away, hidden away. Occasionally I would remember to go and look at them and pick one to read.
This time I settled for one that had been sitting in a pile of books for some time. It was in used condition and I had probably picked it up at a charity shop or car boot sale. It was something that I had looked at many times and put down, never quite being in the mood to read. It was a book by Cheryl Strayed called Wild. Part memoir and part travel adventure, it tells of her journey to walk the Pacific Coast Trail. I thought to myself, it's about time I read this, or at least a few chapters to see if it is worth reading. I can usually tell after two or three chapters if a book has got me interested, and I really want to read more.