It's on a tiny little island created by the random meanderings of old, old neighborhood
streets. Grassy in the summer, shaded by a few ancient trees the grass stays
neatly mowed; the park bench freshly painted.
It looks like the neighborhood threw out it's arms and opened up a
B & B for elves. Or gnomes. Complete with tiny little flower boxes, it's the
cutest thing and clearly a focal point of neighborhood pride.
I don't know who built it, who paints it or who mows the grass around it.
I don't know what kind of books are collected behind the glass window of the front
door, nor do I know what the neighborhood rules are for borrowing.
I just like it.
And I think it's a great idea.
After falling in love with the little neighborhood library I found out NPR did a
report and apparently these little havens of literature and neighborhood know-how
are scattered across the country now. You can order one online if you
don't want to build your own. They call the librarians "stewards".
And I guess you can set your own rules.
Magic. Just so, so much neighborhood magic.
And by the way.......it's winter here.
In case you hadn't noticed.
In the summer the grass is green the sky is blue and the flowers bloom.
For now it's cold and visitors to the little neighborhood library have to wear mittens and boots.
But isn't that just the perfect time to wrap up in a blanket, throw another log on the family fire
and snuggle in with a good book?
Here's the link to Kirsten Durst's excellent report on All Things Considered
Give it a listen.....
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