I am going to go into a bookstore in Munich in March.
I am going to go to the poetry section.
I am going to find an edition of Rilke.
I will probably look at all the neighboring R shelves and discover on the spines of books the names of German poets about whom I know nothing.
I will open some of those books and try to read a line or more with my first-year German.
I will likely find the edition of some unfamiliar poet and decide to buy it. I will have understood just enough of the words and the binding will be appealingly compact and the pages strangely beautiful with all the open space around and between the lines of verse.
I will take the books I want to the cashier and offer the credit card with which I have purchased books in Paris and Venice in recent years.
Five minutes later I will walk out onto the Munich street with a bag in hand.
No other time with those books will likely do as much to convince me of the value of the days I am planning in Munich as that half hour in the bookstore.
Wherever it is.
Near whatever Munich church I will probably then wend my way.
Photo uploaded from Flickr member soozika.