So, I just drove through the April showers, out of my inner ring suburb, through the outer ring suburbs, on and 0n and on (my little Toyota getting an unaccustomed work-out on the hills) and on and on till I was in the real country. Trees, fields, wide gray sky and nary a traffic signal in sight for miles until, as per my trusty directions, I came to The Red Light and took a left.
And there, rising up, as my mother would say, In the Middle of Nowhere (which I realize is a relative expression but boy it really felt like that) was a beautiful library. It has ambition, this building– high ceilings, lots of glass, tended garden out front. And inside, brimming shelves stretching as far as you can see, and people reading, browsing, dreaming.
Librarians welcomed me with open arms and donut holes. And suddenly it felt as if I were in the exact center of the universe. I met a little girl reading “Through the Looking Glass”–she had long blonde hair and a headband, hmmm–and a boy who told me he wants to be a writer. When I asked his favorite things to write, he replied, “Everything out of the ordinary.” Hey, that’s what I want to write, too!
So there I was: outside a rainy April afternoon, inside a garden of delight. To think that very scene is going on times thousands today, all across the country. Viva, libraries!