Today, we went to the annual Lifeline Bookfest. For those who don’t know, the bookfest is basically a massive secondhand book sale. Rows upon rows of books are available from $2.50 down to a bagful for $5. Yep, perfect afternoon in my opinion 🙂
I love rummaging around in the various sections. My heart does a little leap if I see a title from a favourite author that I haven’t bought yet. And I get a little whirl of anticipation in my stomach when I pop books by authors I haven’t read yet into my bag. Oh and the thrill of finding a long sought after title, just sitting there, quietly beckoning me over. Bliss.
The thing that struck me today was the eclectic mix of my fellow bookloving browsers. Such an unlikely mob we all are. Well dressed, sloppily dressed, young, old and in-between. We are all there, united by our love of the printed page, the scent coming from the ‘classic/rare/out of print’ section making us half crazed and feverish.
And that’s what I love about books and reading. It doesn’t matter who you are, opening up the pages of a book does the same for each of us. We travel to far away, or fantastical lands, we mix with people we are sorry to leave at the end, or extremely glad we don’t know in person. We live situations we never would normally. We cry, we laugh, we feel things we didn’t know we could. We escape. We fly on words weaved by others, to places created and nurtured by another’s imagination.
And we are all equal. Whether we read slowly or quickly. Whether we dog-ear the pages or have too many bookmarks to count. Whether we love romance or philosophy.
We are all doing the same thing – feeding our souls from a table lovingly laid by a stranger who has become a friend.