I love the photo of the cat resting on the book pile. A used book store in Boston, my favorite, had closed shop when I went there last summer. I was crushed. A big fat black cat was always draped over precariously piled books on sagging shelves, the owner was scruffy and surly, the books were impossible to find in any order, and it was heaven.
And then there are the unexpected finds. I remember a story a few years ago about someone browsing in a used book store in Scotland, who found an original manuscript by William Blake, tucked into a book.
Online access is great, but . . .
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