I have always valued quietude, now more than ever. It seems to go hand in hand with small numbers of people. Yesterday was a high volume day in terms of people and noise.
There was, first, Friday Fling, in which there was a near two hour feeding frenzy. It was quiet then the children descended like a swarm of locusts. There was a lot of yelling and screaming, particularly when one of them got a hula hoop stuck in a tree. Then another kid, in an attempt to dislodge it, got a second hula hoop stuck in a tree.
By the time it was all over, I’d had quite enough. But the work day had just begun. I went back to the former banquet room of the historic Eagle Hotel and discovered that there were many people there, including the two loud fifteen year old boys who were cleaning books.
There was also the high hum of visitors, and the low hum of workers. I enter into that crowded space and I know it’s a good thing. But still, I would rather be in the room, and have the people trickle in – the analogy is that it is like slowly lowering myself into warm water rather than diving in.
An aside – I wonder what pool divers think about their diving into water, head first. Sounds dreadful to me.
Today was a far better day because all day, there was just a low hum. The high schoolers, Melissa and Alexi showed up, and Pete came and went. I got a lot done.
Many years ago, I read an article in Psychology Today in which it was said that some screen out ambient noise and some don’t. I am one who does not. This has been a lifelong trait. And it explains a lot.
I should look forward to those high hum days because this means the BLBP is doing well. We want community involvement.
I would be happiest if all I had to do was to sort and categorize books and talk about them with a given few. But, once again, the words be happy with what you get come to mind.
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