Reading Essays of E.B.White is a pleasure that never dwindles.
Reading his essays makes me want to write essays. They make me want to move to the country and enjoy a quiet, purposeful life. I want to wake up early, drift down to the kitchen in my old pajamas, and fire up the wood stove to heat a pot of coffee before feeding the chickens.
I'll never do those things, but White's essays make them sound wonderful.
They make me want to slow down and do things the old, simple ways that have always just worked. I want to sit quietly and write with a pencil in a notebook. I want to toss my complex digital cameras aside, load an old Leica with Tri-X and sit by a lake or walk in the woods.
I want to notice things and write notes about them.