I love this time of year.
Hearty stew, thick scarves, brightly colored leaves, roasted vegetables. Everything warm and soothing.
I found this has even spilled over into my reading choices at the moment. When it was time to decide what to read next last week, there was nothing that jumped out at me for a while until I finally figured out what I was in the mood for: a comfort read.
Harry Potter typically epitomizes a comfort read for me, but this time around I chose Jane Eyre. I read it once years ago (I must have been 15 or 16), but not since. I remembered it fairly well, and it felt like just the right thing to read. And it was.
It’s funny how at certain times all you want is something that feels like coming home–and strange how certain books just feel like coming home. They just worm their way into your heart and stay there.
What are your favorite comfort reads?