I showered, I did some laundry, I made an actual dinner, I picked up the house. Suddenly the world doesn’t seem so dark, and now I’m wondering if I’m just being hormonal. Or maybe this is what peace that passes understanding feels like. Who knows? I don’t want to think about it for too long, lest something breaks and I feel like I’ve fallen into a hole again.
I finished a book tonight, Light On Snow, by Anita Shreve. My friend Dacia sent me this book in a care package ages ago, during a time when I wasn’t reading much. But now that I’m devouring fiction, it was nice to have this on hand.
This was a much easier read than The Weight of Water, also by Anita Shreve. I couldn’t finish that book – the trying to solve a murder that happened in the 1800’s thing just didn’t seem to grab me. But Light On Snow kept me engaged. It was sad, but light. I’ve read sad books that leave me feeling heavy and depressed, but this was a book about sad circumstances that always held a glimmer of hope. Or maybe it’s lighter because it’s told from the perspective of a 12-year-old girl.
Read this book now, though, in the winter – especially if you are surrounded by snow. It takes place in the New Hampshire winter, and there is nary a page without a mention of snow, ice, or some form of snow clothing. You would much rather be curled up next to a fire reading this than on the beach in July.