This prompt came at a perfect time since I am currently working on my room, the room I actually claimed as my library the very first time I saw it.
I live in a home that was built in 1910 give or take a year or two. My dining room has a little sunroom off the back of it with French doors between the two. Take a look at this picture and please try to ignore the Christmas tree the kitten trashed and all the junk sitting in the sunroom. As I said, I’m just starting to work on that room and with a small house with no empty spaces, its hard to empty out a room to make changes to it – I end up with junk all over the dining/living/kitchen/basement – oh wait, there’s no room for junk in the basement, its already crammed. That’s what you get combining two later life households into one little 960 sq foot house! But I digress.
My library/reading/writing room unfolds this way.
Open the double french doors and come in to my seven by nine foot haven, please, no shoes. Windows all but fill two walls and the remaining wall space is taken up with book shelves. My laptop and whatever books I happen to be reading at the time, sit on the shelf closest to the wing back chair that snuggles into the corner next to the radiator. A warm fluffy blanket and a plump down pillow make it the coziest corner in the house.
A threadbare, antique Persian rug lays on the equally worn hardwood floor and in front of the chair a sheepskin rug, perfect for pushing bare feet into. The round cherrywood table beside the chair holds a lamp, a notebook and pen and a large chunk of Amber I found on one of my walks.
The windows give me a perfect view of my healing place, the spot underneath the huge old Elm tree in the backyard. During the growing season this place hums, the healing energy is a tangible thing that flows up through the ground and into my soul. My library feels like an extension of this spot, it envelopes me in golden afternoon sunlight and the night cloaks me in darkness, the glow of the screen my only illumination.
My library sits at the back of my house, it is small and cozy, holds all my books and whatnots that have followed me around, and my library wraps me in magic, no genie required.
Oh, it’s also restricted access, see the ENTRY CHECKLIST.