I believe an ideal library should have adjoining grounds full of greenery. This expectation can be traced to my childhood home near William Jewell College, whose library sat on top of a hill blessed with abundant large trees. Thus spoiled, I tend to want a tree to be waiting for me and my new book when I exit a library. With ample lawns and tree cover on three sides, High Park branch provided just such an opportunity.
The interior of this historic Carnegie-funded library didn’t fall short of aesthetic ideals, either. Boasting a high timbered ceiling on the second floor like its sister branches, Wychwood (1916) and Beaches (1916), High Park’s Edwardian dignity created a calm, even sanctified atmosphere. Indeed, one of the librarians told me that patrons often ask her if the building used to be a church. In truth, it has never been used for religious purposes, unless you count the Christmas carollers who find a natural perch on the mini-third floor on the east side, projecting their voices into the depth of space.
I trotted up the steps to the singing and reading platform, glorying in the perspective it provided. Standing on this inward-facing balcony, I could take in the entire south wing of the upper level. I enjoyed looking at the dark brown timbers, the central stripe of orange paint, the stone hearth, and the painting above it. From my heightened stance, I speculated about all the thousands of thoughts, from the dullest to the most sublime, which have floated in the air far above the readers’ heads for almost a century! Quiet gentlemen in cuff links might have taken unplanned naps or composed purple poems to flappers. Such a soaring ceiling couldn’t help but play host to a rich silence full of unvoiced flights of fancy.
I appreciated the contemplative separateness of the inner balcony, the way it provided a place apart to think and study. When I returned to the second floor proper, I discovered another nook along the south wall. This alcove held the Jobs and Literacy collection and a hopeful skylight. It seemed the perfect spot to make big decisions about personal and professional development.
Not far from the sunny alcove resided an extensive Polish collection, which included the sample pictured below. I wished I could just pick up and read a page or two, but my brief trip to Poland in 1992 only equipped me with a few greetings and the odd vocabulary word, mostly food-related.
After tilting my head back for a serious bout of window-gazing, I walked to the north wing, only to find more windows to appreciate, especially a large one facing the side of Emmanuel Howard Park United Church. The table in front of it was a gorgeous day-dreaming spot, as was the Teen Zone with its reading bench shaped like half of a picture-frame. Both the Teen corner and the fiction section had a wonderful air of openness thanks to the high windows that overlooked the greenery below.
The expansiveness of the upper floor gave way to a cozier lower level, which was primarily devoted to children’s materials. The Kid’s Section was supervised by a friendly whale who didn’t seem to mind having been captured mid-leap and suspended from a library ceiling. The marine mammal looked like an amiable creature but not one to underestimate, especially as it guarded access to the air conditioning unit.
To the right of the whale was a carpeted reading theatre. The stage was empty on the afternoon of my visit, but it was heartening to see a family gathered around a nearby low table. As a father read a story about pigs to his young daughter, I recalled the wonderful sound of my dad’s voice when he used to read The Little Engine that Could, Green Eggs and Ham, and The Tale of Peter Rabbit. My love of books and libraries started with the precious gift both of my parents gave me, which was taking time to read to me when I was very small.
Before taking leave of High Park Library, I stopped to appreciate a flamingo, a hippo, and a giraffe. The hippo was the most gregarious of the three animals, but I also liked how the bird’s stoicism balanced the quiet optimism of the giraffe. A gorgeous sun warmed the giraffe’s neck, its rays separate entities in intense orange and yellow. I thought the colorful animal portraits brought a welcome playfulness to this seriously classy historic branch.
