Sunday, December 21, 2008
"I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free."
Our neighbourhood library is an antiquated, colossal block of granite brimming with printed words, yet for Spouse and I, one rather notable attraction is not even made of paper.
Habitually we push through the doors of the Romanesque-styled structure, pass under grand arches and rainbow-stained glass, scale the vast stone staircase and pause on the landing to peer out the window, where we observe an elephant. After ensuring the fellow is still out there we continue, satisfied, up the steps and on with our exploration of unread pages.
So far as I know, we are the only individuals aware of the animal's presence. To the eye of other patrons and passers-by there sits the remains of a cannon from a bygone era. They gaze and do not see the rear end of a great lumbering elephant. They find a disused battle weapon of tarnished metal.
One can find little fault with their resourceful wanderings. Libraries are, after all, for the pursuit of creative endeavour and for kindling the imagination.
Posted by Phyllis Hunt McGowan at 3:46 PM