The Dangers of Reading Against the Seasons

I’m about half way through reading The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett for the first time. I had seen the 1990s film version, which I adored, but had never read the book. So far I have not been able to put it down. I love the constant reminders Burnett gives that fresh air, simple food, and time spent running around in nature can cure illness and depression. I have never wanted to live on the wild and windy moors before, but suddenly it’s all I can think about!

Unfortunately, where I am, it’s 95 degrees outside (down from the 100s!) and, well, the middle of August. So I picked a really bad time to read this book as I can’t exactly spend the whole day outside with a jump rope and an old key in my pocket. I also can’t suddenly transform my rickety balcony into an English cottage garden as Spring has long since passed.

This got me to thinking that maybe my next book should be about the end of Summer and/or the beginning of Fall. Something appropriate for the season. Maybe something like Little House in the Big Woods? I haven’t read that either but I believe it starts off in the Fall.

I could be on a children’s literature roll here.

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