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A Silent Chorus

The thoughts that come into one's head...

As I'm sitting here on this foggy riverbank morning I'm staring at our shelves of books. The stock is a little thin being post holiday and our lack of scouting as of late. Mark and I have been having to man the stores more leaving less time to hunt for books.

Despite their shallowness, the shelves still contain many wonderful books. I am looking at some of the volumes we've chosen to face. We usually select works with interesting cover art or attractive subjects. Right now Steve Jobs and the artwork of Bill Plympton are staring back at me.

Books have always looked like mouths to me. Closed, they appear tightlipped. The barest hint of what lies within, writ large along their spines such as Animals in Translation or The Glass Castle.

Open though, oh my yes, open they appear as if to shout their subject. An open book on a table is an invitation to a conversation. An afternoon of edification and sometimes epiphany.

It's as if I'm in a concert hall. Chorus at the ready. I wait behind my register for the stream of conductors to pull their selection and bid their choice to sing a song of fiction or history, romance or horror.

The Universal quest for enrichment.

As I scan the room I see volumes and volumes of unspoken conversations. Untapped knowledge. Enlightenment and entertainment.

And I marvel at my good fortune to be their custodian.

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