About golden treetops and miracles

When I look out of my window, I see the forrest. It always seemed to be a dark and scary place to me. When I was a kid, I had nightmares of a werewolf, climbing up my window and trying to eat every piece of my body that wasn't under my blanket. I checked my closet every night to make sure he wasn't hiding there, ready to attack. Then I snuggled in, making sure I was all covered and hidden for all my scary fantasies that where living out there.

But sometimes, when we expect it the least, there's the sun, turning the once so dark and stark treetops into golden leafs, who seem to sparkel on a autumns day.

Miracles do excist...

Enjoying that view, I opend a new package I received from the Netherlands. A thick envelop with the message 'hope you'll like it' on the back. Inside I found an old paperback edition of 'the notebook'. Time made the pages turn yellow, and I could smell the hands and tears of the readers who loved the novel before it came to me. Since the moment I noticed that, it became one of the most precious books of my collection...

I have that thing with old books. A visit to London, for example, is never complete without a stop in my favorite second hand bookstore in Camden (and a cider in the Hawley's arms ofcourse). To me, it's like second hand books don't only tell stories, they've become a story themselves, which makes it more valuable for a dreamer like me.

I started reading that same night, and I almost finished the story by now. As always when reading books, there are some words I cherish in head and hart...

"I am a common man with common thoughts, and I've led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten, but I've loved another with all my heart and soul, and to me, this has always been enough." (Nicholas Sparks)

I hope to feel the same one day, when I'm old and wrinkeld.
But as told before:

Miracles do excist.

With love
Inow.