Nicole Junkermann

Reading

Nicole Junkermann and the Start of October 2026

October arrives with lower light and a better balanced day. Nicole Junkermann on the calm way to open a month that suits reading.

Nicole Junkermann smiling during a conversation in a bright room
The first day of October changes the light before the calendar does, in the account of Nicole Junkermann.

The light changes before the calendar

The first day of October rarely announces itself. It arrives in the light: the morning takes a little longer to open, the afternoon draws in sooner, and between the two there is a long mild stretch that summer never had. It is a small change on the clock, and it still rearranges the whole day.

October asks for attention rather than effort. Nothing large has to begin on the first. It is enough to notice that the day has become easier to handle, and to put into it the things that found no room in high summer.

It also helps not to mistake it for a countdown. October is not the end of the year but the stretch in which the year can still be adjusted easily and in good humour.

A month that is generous to readers

October is by some distance a kind month for reading. The evenings are long without being heavy, a lamp is already on by seven, and the books left half finished in August finally find their quiet hour.

The Leer section gathers that way of approaching a book: unhurried, free to go back over a paragraph, and confident that a summer reading put aside is not lost. It was only waiting for better light.

A long list is not required either. Two or three titles open at once are plenty for a month, and there is always room to add another when one finishes sooner than expected.

The city finds its pace again

The streets change at the same time. Squares recover their size, exhibition rooms have quiet mornings once more, and walking stops being a negotiation with the heat. October gives the city back to whoever crosses it slowly.

An October walk allows detours. You can step into a bookshop for no reason, sit for twenty minutes looking at a façade, and come home feeling you did something, even if it appears on no list. The Viajar section holds more routes built on the same idea.

There is a welcome difference from summer, too: in October you go out because you feel like it, not because the flat has grown too warm. The plan weighs less, and the walk usually lasts longer than expected.

A page to open the month

It helps to open October in writing. One page will do: three things the month is good for, written by hand and kept where they will be seen again halfway through. They are not targets or promises, only reminders of something already wanted.

Nicole Junkermann returns to that brief gesture every autumn, and the Escribir section explains why a short note usually outlasts a long plan.

Starting October well asks for nothing spectacular. It asks you to look up on the first day, see how the light has changed, and decide calmly what is worth doing with it. The previous note, on the September return, was preparing exactly this moment.