Living in the countryside and with no street lights, autumn and winter evenings are really dark. So dark, you can’t see your hand in front of your face without a torch. But between finishing work and eating with the family, I’m sometimes found on the sofa, tucked up inside a fleecy blanket and the fire on; my evening lit up by a book. My next opportunity comes at bedtime, but only if I stay awake! I can sometimes sneak in another read as I wait for the bus or in the car as my daughter finishes Scouts. When I lived in London, I would often carry a book to rid myself of the monotony of the tube train commute. Reading, can at times, appear to be a totally selfish and guilty pleasure. Done rarely in company apart from a cheeky packet of crisps or a glass of wine. But it’s our time for escape, relaxation and learning; it can even open up a conversation with a stranger. So, my question is … when do you like to read? Photo by David Lezcano on Unsplash