I love books. I like the feel of books, the smell, the whole tactile sensation of holding a book. To me, there is always a feeling of holding a talisman of some sort. As though there is magic within the the two covers, just waiting to be activated by someone opening it.
I think this partly came from my first experiences with a shrine to books, our local library, the old Steele Memorial Library in Elmira. It was an older Carnegie-built library from the 1890’s, a beautiful building that oozed charm and opulence. 
It had real character, with stacks behind the front desk that you accessed via cast iron stairs and had translucent glass floors that allowed a little light into the dark nooks. There was a real sense of intimacy in this building, a feeling which seeped into the region between the reader and the books. I remember sitting in the comfortable wooden chairs at the long, cool wooden tables and reading entire books while there. Many, many hours were spent there in other worlds.
I have very specific memories of that place. I remember that my sister first introduced me to the child’s section there and that I devoured those books there and how excited I was to finally move out into the adult sections of the library, where new horizons of adventure loomed. I remember how excited I was to find the Paddington Bear books and how I carried an armful of them through the streets to my grandparents’ home on the East Side of town. I remember that they were both there outside the house and that my grandmother’s face was very pleased to see the books I carried. I was no more than eight years old and felt like the world was in my hands.
The old library was moved in the late 1970’s or 80’s- I can’t really remember- to a new and shiny building. Oh, it’s a nice facility with better lighting and spacious aisles with room for computers and other activities. Better parking and all the modern conveniences. Everything one could want. Except for personality. That sense that makes you feel as though you were entering a private and sacred place, a place of stored wisdom just waiting for you.
Just for you…
Redtree Times 