lost within blue

Lots of things let me down. And many things catch me unawares. Not least books. Often the ones I am most looking forward to disappoint, and those I have avoided as I graze along the shelf delight me when I finally embrace them.

This was the case for The Poisonwood Bible. I recall I bought it because it was cheap and it sounded like something I should read. But it has lurked unloved on my shelf for years, looking too wordy and too blue to tempt me. But February is a long month despite its days and I gave the blue book a go.

And these are just some of the wonders I found within -

‘Rattling words on the page calling my eyes to dance with them.’

‘my heart felt like a soft, damaged place in my chest, like a bruise on a peach.’

‘The substance of grief is not imaginary. It’s as real as rope or the absence of air, and like both those things it can kill.’

‘My mind is crowded with a forest of facts. Between the trees lie wide-open plains of despair. I skirt around them. I stick to the woods.’

Barbara Kingsolver