Smells and Memories: Books

I love the smell of a library, the libraries that are full of books. That combination of paper, dust, probably some mildew, cardboard, and more -- I cannot put my finger -- or should I say -- my nose to it enough to put it into words. but that smell, not quite like an old house or a schoolroom, is a smell that can quickly lift me up and throw me back in time.

There was the first library I remember: read with white trim, sitting on a rise above the sidewalk. We went there from school and we all got our own library cards with our names on them and a lecture from the stern lady with the small glasses about how we had to be quiet, take good care of the books we borrowed and bring them back on time. I was so excited: I was probably all of six or seven years old.

I could go to the library on my own, I discovered, because there were no big streets to cross.

The first time I went on my own, I surveyed all those books, picked out my favorite and another and another, so careful to not drop one.

"Only three."

"What?"

"You can only borrow three at a time." said the lady at the check out desk.

"But I will have to come back tomorrow," I said.

"That's OK. But most children don't read more than three in two weeks. After you bring back these three books, you can get three more."

This went on for some time. Several times a week, I'd be back for another three books.

Then one day, I heard these wonderful words: "You can take as many as you can carry."

Oh what a joyous day that was!

Books have a special smell, and that smell was more precious to me than perfume or the fresh smell of a flower . . . well, all except for the honey sweet smell of the white water lilies at the lake.

Reading was and always has been my favorite past time. 

Another whiff, and back to college memories, sitting in the stacks, working on a report, piling books high on the desk I was using.