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Simple Pleasures




The Maple Press. Savoring the simple pleasures of life. The name combines both the sweet sentiment of Autumn – the crisp time of year to indulge the senses – with the passion for the written word. Press not only referring to the printing press of German invention from 1440 but to the newspaper presses of the early 1900s where paper, hot off the press, was rushed off to the public with the latest news. That was a time where literature was taking off, rapidly rising to the heights that it is today. Books were a novel to behold, headlines didn’t travel as fast, but they certainly meant more when they arrived, and simplicity was at its peak.

 

Simple pleasures are not hard to come by, but easy to miss.

In the Spring, it’s the patter of raindrops against a foggy window. Freshly washed hair that smells like a bouquet of roses; roses so soft they border on silk. The smell of old books. Drives through the mountains with views of trees peaking through the fog. The bliss from pure oxygen during a visit to the greenhouse.

Sometimes it’s the glowing warmth of the sun on a Summer trip to the beach. The rhythmic ticking of a clock down the hall. The perfect french fry, hot and salted. Freshly cleaned sheets, as white as clouds. The freedom of walking barefoot through rain, dirt, or grass.

Autumn holds the feeling of soft, well-worn sweaters. Cobblestone streets sprinkled with fallen leaves in golden hues. Marveling at ivy-covered buildings on campus grounds. Hot coffee on a cold morning. The dreamy admiration for exquisite penmanship.

Then it's wool socks in the Winter. Skating on slick ice with a rosy, cold nose. Curling up to a movie that has been seen a dozen times, but never gets old. Stacks of wood, evergreens tied to the tops of cars, and nutcrackers all lined up at Yuletide. Wiping away the frost from the window to see the first snowfall.

Recounts of these simple moments will be published here. Documented in an attempt to extend the splendor beyond those brief and fleeting encounters of purely simple contentments.






Until next time,

The Maple Press

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