The images corrupt the soul...

A young man came into the library today and asked me to recommend a good book. The Young man comes into the Library on a fairly regular basis. I would like to know what He thinks of Catcher in the rye. I would like to know if it works on him? So I tell him "Catcher in the rye" by J D Salinger. It appears that he hasn't read it and so I go to find it on the shelf. Unfortunately the book isnt there. When I look on the catalogue I am pleased to see that it is out. That it is being read. I tell the kid that I will write down the title for him, so that he can get it later. When I googled Salinger later, this image poped up. Apparently its been taken by a photo-journalist.









This is a picture of Salinger shortly before he died.



Today I was reminded of the primal beauty of tracks, of the different foot prints left in the snow. Looking down I could see a heeled shoe, that had walked down some steps, along the path towards the front of the house. They had made a perfect print which I followed to this huge print that exposed the Yellow gravel stones of the drive. The heeled foot prints had walked around the exposed yellow gravel and had abruptly disapeared.
For some reason I am reminded of the film Innocence. I am thinking about our past present and future. Of our ability to read signs. For instance what could those signs mean? what could the tracks mean to somebody that has never encounted a pair of high heeled shoes, or indeed the woman who wears them? And what of the car, this huge heavy print with strange tracks leading off?