Library

A throng of students linger near the computers and magazine racks.  I find a desolate corner filled with abandoned books; an inch of dust covers them.  A musty odor hides behind the untouched books; to me it’s like sweet perfume.  I settle in an empty chair and read about the wisdom and knowledge of the ancients.  Hours pass by without a disturbance.  A treasure trove of knowledge and imagination lies at the heart of this place.  For the seeker there are answers, and for the adventurers there are lost places and unexplored lands.  It is so quiet and still, like a Saturday morning when you discover four feet of snow and an eerie silence outside.  The silence is so loud.  As I walk between the bookshelves, it hits me how much knowledge and imagination surrounds me.  The works of thousands of minds fill the space around me.  Every time I explore I find something new and exciting.  To most this place holds the remnants of the minds of old, dead men, but, to me, this place holds the remnants of the wisdom and imagination of civilizations.  How lucky I am to be in this place.  It is a privilege that ancient philosophers would die for.