Daydream #1

I've long daydreamed of creating a shared library with friends. A library with space for books from 10 or 20 people, for those of us who love to keep the books we have read but don't need to keep them all at home. We'd buy a space and fill it with bookcases, a few good writing desks, and some comfortable reading chairs. I walk in on a Sunday morning or a Tuesday evening, settle in with a new find or an old favorite, maybe put on a kettle. The feel of the place is in my bones.

The books are organized, and the shelves are easy to peruse. The science books are all over here, near the case of essays and across from the room filled with mysteries and science fiction novels. Like in any fine library, it's a joy to look through the shelves and find the book you are looking for and 10 more good choices beside it. There are no bad books here, because there are no bad books in my daydreams.

The library has no distractions. Perhaps a cool and quiet breeze, or the crackle of a fireplace, or some quiet music, but no traffic noise or phone calls or television. No chores to do, no unmet obligations, just the easy absorption into story and scene that we experience so much more often as children than as adults. The library is a respite from the larger world, a place apart, a place filled with other people's stories where we can set aside our own.

The shared library is an extended community. Here there's a brief recommendation about a book just finished, over there a central table where we all place our favorite couple of books from the past year. Story readings, small book clubs, maybe an occasional author reading, but the highlight of the year is the day you run into a friend there who presses a book into your hands and says "You have to read this," and the book opens your eyes or your heart.

I love having my books at hand, even though they are disorganized and scattered around the house, even though there are too many distractions. But the shared library is a persistent daydream, and a very pleasant one.