I was going through some old photos this week and came across this shot that I LOVE, taken by my dad. That's me age about six. National Geographic always played a big part in our lives, so I love that what I was reading was a catalog of NatGeo publications.
In my grandparents' library, behind the music room in the chateau they
restored in Languedoc, the lower shelves were (and still are) populated
by what seemed like miles and miles of thrilling yellow spines. When I
was a kid, I used to hide away in there, plop myself down on the cool,
limestone-smelling floor and spend hours just pouring over issues. Storied Lands of Malaysia, The Eclipse from a Jet, New Guinea to Bali in Yankee...there is no limit to the places you can go with a stack of NGs in your lap.
Occasionally, when I find them in the old antique shop down the street, I
still buy issues of National Geographic from the sixties, just for the
sake of nostalgia.
This is one from my collection:
Sigh.
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