Name a more iconic duo than dappled streams of evening sunlight, and the exposed brick wall of your childhood library
Dust from books moved hours ago, drifting lazily in shafts of golden light.
Faint giggles, muted by sun-stained upholstery and the reference section.
The soft, earthen sweetness of yellowed pages and weathered binding.
As a kid, I would trace paths between bricks in the wall of my local library. With my extended index finger, I became a ship captain, navigating uncharted waters. I’d stand on my toes, searching for a new passageway through the northerly seas — confirmed by crumbs of dislodged mortar falling to my feet.
I went back recently — decades later. The space was smaller than I remembered.
Where were its labyrinthine hallways? Its vaulted ceilings? My cathedral had shrunk to a cottage!
But the sun streams in, bright as ever. It pours gold down the walls, to the floor — forming those same, cozy pools I had enjoyed during travels to Hogwarts and Mars.
I approach my old friend, the brick wall, but he seems not to recognize me. I hear no crashing waves. I smell no brine.
A cascade of emotion begins, and lasts no more than 2 seconds — disappointment, followed by embarrassment that I had expected anything, followed by amusement at the strangeness of it all.
Still standing there, studying the aged brick, something else appears: appreciation. What was once a barren dirt plot had become a cherished library, thanks only to human hands and shared vision.
This tendency — to create, to provide, to see something where nothing yet exists — has brought incalculable good to the world, and I've grown to deeply admire it in others.
After two decades, the library I stood in was a far cry from that of my memories. It was plain — austere, even. But it’s come to represent something that extends far beyond its shrunken rooms.
The world is still painted with narrative and possibility — the colors may have changed, but they’re no less bright. They’re all around us, even in aged and broken brick — sometimes you just have to squint.
Original Twitter thread here