Scent of Old Books

scent of old books: a haiku
scent of old books: a haiku

scent of old books
espresso machine’s song
hints of jazz piano

I spent many hours of my mid-twenties wandering Seattle’s bookstores and coffee shops. Fond, fond memories. Though a challenging time, mainly financial, I enjoyed that time. Traveling into Seattle became more and more challenging over the years since I returned to Lynnwood. It looks dramatically different, and I haven’t been down since the pandemic started. Puget Sound’s north end holds its charms, too. Just different ones. Evolutions, I guess.

The Need To Write

Writing

Part of my brain is itching to write. Usually, there’s something to be said, though. “Oh, I need to blog about this…” coming flowing into my head.

Today, though, there’s just a need to write, to type. Oddly, I’ve spent all day in front of a keyboard, so why spending more time in front of one is compelling escapes me.

One thing I know I need to do to improve my writing: read. I don’t read plain ol’ books much anymore. And I need to fix that.

Sure, writing more is certainly important. But, well, pouring books into my brain is critical, too.

With that, I tried setting an alarm reminding me to turn off all electronics. And that’s just gone off. So, I’m going to wrap this up.

Time to grab a book, made of paper, and turn off this frantic world for awhile.