I turn the corner and catch my first glimpse of the clock on the tower above the entrance. I anxiously scan the parking lot for a spot as close to the door as possible, in case it starts to rain while I am inside. Leaving all my daily cares behind, I snatch up my book returns and prepare to enter my library.
I love my library — from the glass-enclosed rotunda to the tables hidden behind the bookshelves. It is like taking an expedition. I never know where I will end up or with whom I will spend the day. I may have tea with Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple while I listen to how she solved another murder. Or I might scale bitter Mt.Everestwith John Krakauer, suffering from hunger and frostbite. I have commanded at Gettysburgand mourned my death onNormandy Beach. I have been a juror at the trial of serial killer Ted Bundy. I have explored science, both real and fictional. Some of my dearest friends are people I met after their deaths and through their biographies, authorized and unauthorized. Then too, there were the occasional romances with an Avalon consort, innocently consummated in an afternoon.
My earliest memories include visiting Oz with Dorothy and Toto and wondering if I would ever get back to Kansas. I solved mysteries with Nancy Drew and lived as a concubine in China, courtesy of Pearl S. Buck. Since then, I regularly travel the globe, as well as the universe. Occasionally, I find a book that is almost 100 years old and take it out to read, both to show respect and to marvel over the changes in writing style over the last century.
But, nowadays, my library has more than books. I can take out movies that date from the silent picture era up to a couple of years old. I can surf the net while listening to live music in the main hall. Curiously, the acoustics are such that it is easier to hear music while at the other end of the library rather than directly in front of the performers. I can even read newspapers and magazines from New York to Taiwan.
In my library, I can sit in comfy armchairs with footstools, at desks with convenient lamps, or, if I am adventurous, I can sneak into the children’s section and sit on green carpet with lily pads.
I always have a list of “to-do’s.” I check my e-mail, read today’s local paper and find a funny movie. But, I am in no hurry while I look at the latest exhibits in the rotunda, glance at the newest additions to the library tantalizingly displayed atop the front bookcases, and wander through the biography section on the lookout for a book cover that catches my eye.
After what seems like days but may only be an hour, I slowly and reluctantly get in the checkout line and make small talk to the librarian who scans my library card and books, and cheerfully wishes me a good day. As I gather up a fresh stack of adventures, I prepare myself to leave this sheltered world where time stands still and re-enter my humdrum, everyday life.
All too soon it is over and I am back in my car headed home to attack another, more practical, to-do list. But, luckily, I carry with me a piece of my library and at the end of the day, when work is done, I can curl up with a new book and leave this world behind. Who will I be today? Where will I go? Magic.
judy beck enterprises 