Occupying a position in the far northwest corner of the Toronto Public Library map, Humberwood branch lies forty-three kilometres from our home in Scarborough. Like Alderwood Library far to the south, Humberwood shares accommodations with a community centre and a school. These branches serve double-duty as school and public libraries.
Although the grounds of the community centre bordered a cluster of suburban houses, a rural atmosphere prevailed thanks to tall grass trails behind the complex and a “natural regeneration area” that ringed the building, softening any blunt angles. Because of my prairie upbringing in Missouri, I have a natural tendency to swoon over wild grasses, the taller the better. I also like my grasses as frondy as possible, for tassels and tufts catch the wind more easily. That’s why I wanted to jump up and down when I saw a so many luscious grasses heaped up in front of the library’s entrance. Increasing my delight, a curved footbridge led to the front door, providing a sense of passing through a wild field.
Humberwood’s interior also felt very welcoming and open, especially when I caught sight of an inspired window seat — one long semi-circular swoop of light and wood. Enchanted, I immediately went to sit on it and soak up the natural view from the inside. While I admired some cottony tufts, I felt sun-warmed and content, like a napping cat.
A few paces from the wonderful seat was a rope hammock hanging from the ceiling. Jammed together in a cuddly heap were two stuffed gorillas in Santa hats and some class of bird tucked under one of the primate’s arms. Closer to the ground, resources in Hindi, Gujurati, Chinese, and Punjabi were located a few bookshelves away from the hammock residents.
A large paper tree and attendant paper dinosaurs — all holding prehistoric court on top of a sturdy bookshelf — announced the presence of the Children’s area. What tickled me about this section was the collection of zany Barbie dolls and action figures which dangled from the ceiling on fishing lines. One macho doll commandeered a motorcycle while a Barbie in a safari suit clutched his waist from behind. A few ceiling tiles over, a plastic man in a gas mask was parachuting towards some picture books. Nearby, a female and two male Barbies formed an aerial karate trio while more decorative (but less dynamic) dolls modeled nightclub outfits and a swimsuit. The central ceiling-piece was a large black helicopter complete with a rugged pilot, a female passenger in impractical gold boots, and a Rocky-impersonator hanging from one of the runners. Clinging to the wall was a rock-climbing Ken doll, his hands and feet scotch-taped to the indoor cliff. Although I worried about the stereotypical gender roles this display might be reinforcing, I couldn’t help but smile at the playful gaggle of dangling Barbies.
Below the Barbies, a collection of stuffed animals had been placed in a friendly pile where two shelves formed a corner on the west wall. A large stuffed Teddy-bear held a blue Wuvluvs alien on his lap. And closer to the ground, a painted wooden clown’s body stood upright, waiting for a photogenic face to fill the empty circle. Although I didn’t pose for a clown photograph, I had a wonderful time in this spacious one-room library on the northwest frontier of the Toronto city line. Humberwood Library, a delightful surprise amid tall grasses, is now on my list of favourite branches.
