My Narnia Moment

You know when the Pevensies first stumble through the wardrobe and emerge, in blinking, shocked delight, in the wonder world of Narnia? Yeah, well, I experienced my equivalent today.

The college library has had issues for a while with bad ceiling, so when it rains--which does happen a lot here!--the water comes through the roof in some parts, leading to tarping of the endangered books and fans and other such items. It's a pain, but it also adds a strange ambience to the upper floors of the library, which are air-conditioned until they're ice cold, absolutely silent, and enormous--you can stand at one end of an aisle, and barely see the wall at the other end. Seriously.

Anyway, I ventured into the college library this morning because I had spare time and hadn't had an opportunity to explore it in a while. Besides, I was on a quest: I have been told by assorted people that I should read some George MacDonald. Now.

So, being the obedient bookworm I am, I went to explore the upper floor, where I figured I would find his works. I had a hunch it would be towards one side of the building, which happened to be tarped. It looked pretty dark and gloomy and kinda creepy, but I took a chance and proceeded anyway, pulled aside the tarp, stepped through . . .

Into a pocket of warmth and sunshine provided by one large, clear window. Before me stood four gleaming old wooden shelves, very tall and very long, piled with old books of the fantasy/adventure genre. And sitting beside the window was a single comfy chair.

Yes. That was my Narnia moment.

I browsed the shelves in a sort of blissful dream. And glory of glories, every single tome I picked at random to thumb through seemed good! Yay! 

And yes, I did pick up Phantastes and Lilith. Not only that, but I nabbed a copy of The Charwoman's Shadow, and another book I picked at random after falling in love with the first two pages. I don't even remember the title, actually. But it is good. 

The only damper on my glee is that my library apparently does not have any of the Aubrey-Maturin books. Bleh. Disappointing.

But anyway, from now on, you know where to find me. In my own personal, secret, Narnia.