This is a passage is the opening paragraph from the wonderful book, The Art of Travel by Alain de Botton. The photograph accompanying this post is one I took around the same time as reading this book and one that comes to mind when reading the excerpt.
It was hard to say when exactly winter arrived. The decline was gradual, like that of a person into old age, inconspicuous from day to day until the season became an established relentless reality. First came a dip in evening temperatures, then days of continuous rain, confused gusts of Atlantic wind, dampness, the fall of leaves and the changing of the clocks - though there were still occasional moments of reprieve, mornings when one could leave the house without a coat and the sky was cloudless and bright. But they were like false signs of recovery in patient upon whom death has passed its sentence. By December, the new season was entrenched and the city was covered almost every day by an ominous steely-grey sky, like one in a painting by Mantegna or Veronese, the perfect backdrop to the crucifixion of Christ or to a day beneath the bedclothes. The neighbourhood park became a desolate spread of mud and water, lit up at night by rain-streaked lamps. Passing it one evening during a downpour, I recalled how, in the intense head of the previous summer, I had stretched out on the ground and let my bare feet slip from my shoes to caress the grass and how this direct contact with the earth had brought with it a sense of freedom and expansiveness, summer breaking down the usual boundaries between indoors and out, all allowing me to feel as much at home in the world as in my own bedroom.
I shared this excerpt once before, many years go in 2009, on my personal blog at the time. Every once in a while this passage comes back to me with the changing season. I haven’t shared it with the EVRD Community before, and it feels like a fitting place.
Revisiting the excerpt now reminds me of another book I have read lately, Bittersweet by Susan Cain. I don’t have a great description of the correlation in my mind, but the mood feels similar.
If you have not read any of Alain de Botton’s books (or ever heard of him), I recommend checking out one of his several books. I will say, my personal favorites are The Architecture of Happiness and The Art of Travel. Although it’s been many years since I have read these books. Enjoy!
Section: EVRD
Tags: Books, Quotey, Reading, Travel, Alain de Botton, Winter, Photography