Libraries Speak Volumes

My plan for the day was simple. I was going to drop off my ballot at the drop box and join the local public library (conveniently located in one location) and then visit the local apothecary. So, I set out for what I knew before I walked out my front door: I was going on an adventure! The drives here are always spectacular, yet as I drove into the parking lot of the library I encountered a world of gold still clinging to its mother all while knowing its time was almost over. One strong wind and each golden leaf would fall upon the streets with their brothers and sisters to join the dance within the air, twirling and skipping as if they were children, when in fact, they were celebrating their last breath so they might one day nourish the roots of the tree or the sister trees which had born them.

I sat and soaked in the color before me, amazed that the end of life can indeed be so beautiful as to make one stop dead in their tracks. I watched children and teenagers run and laugh. Teenagers! Wow! Laughing! I watched as mothers and fathers, grandfathers and grandmothers walked in and out of the doors of a building holding secret worlds waiting to be revealed along with riches and treasures unrivaled by the prizes sought by Indiana Jones. And so, I joined them and stepped through the looking glass onto a porcelain terrazzo tiled floor which flowed organically to the shelves of books before me.

I expected books. Libraries house books. This is common knowledge. What I did not expect was the art. Walls were adorned with paintings telling stories without words. Beautiful and whimsical bronze statues both stood and sat depicting magical adventure, the warmth of a good fairy tale, and families bonding over an epic tale or sweet parable. I, of course, snapped some pictures and wondered at the artists or the dedication plaques with each sculpture. But I was here for the thing I had learned to love in third grade when my mother took me to the library while she was studying for her GED-Books!

As a child I felt as though the world vanished in a library, yet there was more world available than I had ever seen. Everyone around me disappeared and it was just me and the bindings of printed ink upon a page. In those days it was Trixie Beldon and then Nancy Drew. I devoured each book, checking out the maximum allowed, often returning before the two weeks to obtain more of the treasures I had come to love.

Today, as I entered the library I remembered my favorite episode of “Doctor Who”-Silence in the Library. In this episode tens of thousands of books contained the souls of all the lives who had lived on this planet sized library. As an author, I understand each writer places part of his soul upon the pages he writes. It is as though they are pouring themselves upon the page. Libraries are indeed places of silence, contemplation, and tranquility. But the quiet is not heavy. It is a welcome peace which provides the opportunity for the visitor to listen, for libraries speak volumes.

Without a single spoken word, the scent of aged paper on old ink invades the olfactory senses. We all know our nose can provide for us some of the greatest memories. For example, one whiff of cherries and almonds and I am taken to my Granny Rosie’s house. I am gently rubbing into my little hands the Jergon’s lotion she kept beside her black rotary phone in the telephone cubby. I hold my hands to my nose and breathe. To this day I love the smell of cherries mingled with almonds-almost as much as I love the smell of old books.

I walk deeper into the library. Rows and rows of shelves could be overwhelming to some, but for me it is an opportunity to explore. There is adventure and mystery in discovery. I peruse the aisles and find a book by an author I have never read before. It appears promising, so I carry it as I continue to explore. Non-fiction, local authors, and a historical and genealogical section with the most fragile bindings held behind locked glass. I am intrigued as I stare into the cases.

Yet a greater phenomena lies before me-a room full of teens. IN A LIBRARY. A whole section of teens lounging on sofas and modern lounge chairs, visiting quietly, and READING! And from all appearances, having fun!

As I approached the desk with my new treasure, I realized this desire of mine to join the local library was about more than just obtaining a book. It was about becoming a part of something larger than myself, a part of the larger world, stretching beyond my own boundaries.

It was about driving in the tent stakes and planting myself in my new world I now called home.