On a school trip when I was in elementary school we started at a brook that ran into town, climbed through the culvert under the road, and into the woods following the water up the mountain. It was spring, just before school let out and the water was cold, but it was fun. I don’t remember our feet touching dry ground, we just walked straight up the middle – leaping from rock to rock and wading through pools. We stuck our hands into the deep holes the water had cut in the granite bed. We came upon a rustic cabin in what felt like the deepest woods. The owners had carefully, over the years, dammed up the stream to create a lovely, deep, clear pool. Shortly after we emerged onto a dirt road, I was shocked to look around to find it was a half a mile from our house. I’d driven over it a thousand times and never thought about the stream – the universe widened. It’s the only full day I remember from Madison Elementary.

This is the stream; and one of my mom‘s latest efforts. It’s interesting how the sense of discovery I remember is conjured so concisely by the painting. I don’t think she ever even heard my story about that day.

I hope it gets a home with a loooong hallway to do it justice.

All, however, is not lost because in the doomed podcast, Lisa Williams introduces (to me, anyway) the idea of “placeblogging”. This is what we’ve been doing – it’s the bridge between the geographic community libraries traditionally serve and the remote, online community they might serve through social tools. Someone (feel free to raise your hand, you barbequeing fool) recently challenged me on the value of libraries blogging – I wish I’d had this term to pull out of my back pocket.

She’s been doing it for Watertown, MA, and Brian Sawyer does an excellent job with Westford, MA (Welcome, Bill). I’m devoted to the NH library blogs of Dover, Freedom, and Madison because they invite me and include me into a community that I can’t be part of otherwise.

UPDATE: Barbequeing fool = Tim, Tim Spaulding.

My current town, Dover, is also blessed with a wonderful town library. They impressed me when I moved here with their online town history and historical photo collection. The blog is a wonderful addition. From the June 21st post, When Lightning Strikes:

I drove home from the Library through a violent thunderstorm last night. As I watched lightning bolts flash across the panorama of the sky I was reminded of two intriguing novels…

Doesn’t it make you want to click on the link and see which novels? Go ahead, I’ll wait. Now do you want to go to the library and take one out or talk to her? Share your favorite thunderstorm novel OR, better yet, your favorite thunderstorm story? I like it for demonstrating the library as a vibrant and human place. It makes the librarians members of the community instead of sitting just outside it. If we don’t believe it is, after all, our patrons won’t either.