Old books

~Aug. 16, 2002~

I finished up yet another books today. This one was one I had checked out from the library because I couldn't find it at the bookstore, which seriously doesn't surprise me any...But it ended up being a good thing.

Now the book itself isn't very old. Probably a couple years, but today, while reading it, the windows were open and a nice breeze was blowing in, and I sudden got the whif of Old Book Smell. You know the one... That smells like a cross between Musty Basement and Ancient Tome. Oddly enough, though, it's a smell that I rather enjoy.

So I paused in my reading, brought the book up to my nose and inhaled deeply. As the scent filled my nostrils my memory started playing various pieces of the past on the screens of my eyelids until it found the one it was looking for.

It was the summer between sophmore and junior year of high school. My best friend, Amy, and I were working together at the town library, mostly shelving books, but we'd help with the children's story time, cataloging, whatever was needed.

One day a truck pulled up to the back and the head librarian asked us if we'd mind unloading the boxes of books that they'd just gotten. Someone had donated almost 50 boxes of hardbacks. Took us a good bit to get them inside, but we were never so glad for AC as when we were done.

Than we broke the boxes open and found, literally, a treasure trove of old books. 1st editions of things like Gulliver's Travels, A Christmas Carol, Wuthering Heights, and more. Some were even signed! And they were in such good condition, it was obvious someone had loved them dearly.

We were in heaven! Both Amy and I were avid book fans, and knew what this collection must have meant. Both of us would have loved to have owned it, and we started wondering why someone would part with it so easily.

We never did learn why, and the library put them in a special room that had just recently been added to help protect older books and magazines and such. But that day, and for the better part of the next two, Amy and I spent the entire time going through the boxes, tenderly, almost reverently taking the books out, running our hands over the covers and spines, checking the editions, publication dates, and revelling in these wonderful books.

And the whole time, the room was filled with that wonderful smell of old books.

I know Amy would have loved to have smelled my book today. I smelled it a few more times for her, though I'm sure that wherever she is, she has a library full of old books. And I'll always think of her and that day when I smell them.

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