CV19: Library Love

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I just want
to sit in the library
with a cup of tea

and read with others
who love books
as much 
as me.

~T.M. Spring

I miss the community aspect and experience of spending time in the local library. There’s something about being alone, yet surrounded by other people enjoying their time alone, too. Alone together. But definitely not lonely in the buzz of vibrant and calm activity with hundreds of other people bustling in and out.

It was actually a place I would strike up conversations with strangers over a section we’re both exploring. Or run into friends and colleagues in the cafe or theater. It was a place for me to join writing workshops and laugh and cry with a group as we shared our drafts in the warm, welcoming spaces of the community rooms.

I stopped by today to return a couple books in the outdoor drop box, then gazed into the windows with the maple tree’s red leaves reflecting in the glass, and decided to step in. A small section of the building is open to pick up holds and to peruse a few shelves of curated books and movies near one of the entrances, the only one that is open now. And when I walked in, I was reminded, it is a necessary place, too.

With temperatures in the 20’s, a walk through the library is a moment of warmth for the homeless who are sheltering outdoors. It provides clean restrooms for the most basic and necessary human bodily functions, and no judgement unisex toilet stalls to be inclusive of transgender guests. There’s also access to clean water.

This is a big deal. Access to meet some basic needs. But no one can congregate, sit down, or linger. The computers are blocked off and there are no job searches or ways to connect with family and friends far away for those who don’t have smart phones or computers where they’re living. The community garden is locked up. And I wonder if it has been like that all summer, and did someone decide safety, avoiding covid-19, was more important than nourishment?

I walked out with three movies and three books, because the joy of discovering in person simply cannot be done online or with an algorithm the way one can in physical space. Facing a row of books my eyes scan a shelf of colors and words and something inexplicably jumps out and says “pick me!.” So I did. My companions for the next week, to enjoy between work and responsibilities.

On the way to my car, I walked past the tents and saw people huddled nearby. Something light and fluffy was falling from the sky — ash or snow or rain? We have to check because four major fires are nearby, burning over 200,000 acres of forest and farm land. The ash has been building up on our cars and sidewalks. Thankfully precipitation is expected.

And I wonder how people, the housed and unhoused, the employed and unemployed, will fare this winter. Meeting the base physiological hierarchy of needs is a challenge for far too many people.

I send you all a virtual hug and wishes for comfort and connection this season.