A reading afternoon in the summerhouse.

Currently I’m sitting in the armchair in the summerhouse about to read.
I’ve already finished the “Girl who Reads on the Metro.”
It’s translated from French. I think it may have lost something in translation.
A very kind of almost weirdly fantastical book in its main narrative, and then almost mundane in others.
I’m beginning “The Midnight Library” and read two chapters of “Thirteen Ways of Looking” already. I know I am going to savour the latter book.
It has a very rich poetic narrative.
The sun is shining on my tumbling pink shrub roses, and catching the deep red splashes of the poppies growing randomly in the borders.
Sounds of the children just leaving school chattering away, reach me here at the end of the garden.
Time to open my book……