12

I get myself to the local library as the doors are opening. It’s almost deserted due to the early hour, quiet, and gloomy among the rows of old books and musty smelling paper. The little old librarian with white curly hair, rimmed spectacles, and flowery dress smiles at me warmly across the tables when I pass her by and leaves me to browse.

I must admit, I love the smell and aura of ancient books, the feeling of being surrounded by old, treasured pages. Back home my own library is my favourite place to spend time. Books retain some sort of presence from past readers, and it can be felt in the air all around me because I’m sensitive to energy vibrations in all things, be they living or not. A warm familiar sensation comes from books, like a gentle breeze on a hot day, or a soothing hug when you need it most, and that relaxes me. It’s because books are beloved things, often cherished with affectionate possessiveness and bring so many emotions by opening them.<