One of my favorite book genres is what I think of as “seasons” books.

A Year in Provence by Peter Mayle. It’s been ages since I’ve read it, but I'll never forget Didier and the table. Nor will I see campers in Provence without imagining them to be German.

The Seasons of Rome by Paul Hofmann. I chuckle imagining the Roman ethos on coffee breaks. Take several of them before starting work, and then continue taking them throughout the morning.

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