My visits to libraries had always been enjoyable. Rows of books represented promise and discovery. Enclosed booths provided quiet sanctuaries and all kinds of knowledge was literally at my fingertips.

I remember going often. And then something changed.

My visits stopped altogether.

The other day I decided a visit to my local library was long overdue.

Free lessons in Spanish, Chinese, French, Japanese, Portugese, Russian, and English were given throughout the day. I applied for a card and took out a graphic novel in Spanish. I discovered a lesser known novel by William Faulkner and took that out as well.  An exhibition of egg tempera paintings was on display in the lobby. Workshops in writing, computers, and fiber arts were offered, among others, all free of charge. And the rows and rows of books were dutifully waiting to be read.

Its cafe was serving fresh pie, food, coffee and tea, and tutoring, reading, writing, chatting, and daydreaming were in evidence at the tables nearby.

I hope to go often, again.