Tall Grass Delight: Humberwood Library (1996)

Occupying a position on the northwest frontier of the Toronto Public Library map, Humberwood branch lies forty-three kilometres from my 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 Humberwood Community Centre bordered a cluster of suburban houses, a rural atmosphere prevailed thanks to tall grasses that ringed the building and softened any blunt angles.

Due to 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 exulted when I saw a so many luscious grasses heaped up in front of the Humberwood 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 quickly perched on it to soak up the view from the inside. There, I admired some cottony tufts and felt sun-warmed and content.

A few paces from the wonderful bench was a rope hammock hanging from the ceiling. Nestled together in a cuddly heap were two gorillas prepared for study with a book, folder, and positive attitudes. Closer to the ground, resources in Hindi, Gujurati, and Punjabi were located a few bookshelves away from the hammock residents. French materials were also available near the children’s section.

A large paper tree and attendant dinosaurs — all holding prehistoric court among rocks and tissue paper on top of a sturdy bookshelf — announced the presence of the children’s area near the south wall. Sea and jungle creatures flanked the dinosaurs on their own shelf-tops.

On my first visit in 2009, what tickled me about the southwest corner of the library was the zany collection of Barbie dolls and action figures that 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 of 2009 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. When I returned to Humberwood in 2014, the Wuvluv had migrated to a shelf that contained an Eiffel Tower replica and five paper boxcars.

More boxcars rode wildly overhead a few steps to the right, replacing the Barbies of five years ago.

Descending to the middle air, a fairy habitat graced the shelf near the children’s computer bay. Standing at attention, a wooden clown guarded the emergency exit, waiting for a photogenic face to fill the empty circle.

Although the clown didn’t persuade me to stop for a photograph, I still had a wonderful time in this spacious one-room library on the edge of Toronto’s city limits. A literary surprise amid tall grasses, Humberwood Library is now on my list of favourite TPL branches.