At the library, this twelve-ish girl waited for a parent or a big sister. Claiming a chair near the entry, she casually hung, curled and draped herself in it's cozy arms. Flipflops and backpack went everywhere, just as if she was in her own livingroom...Oh, I never did "live" in the library as some kids do. But I always, always found one in whichever town we lived. There I found books to carry back in our room or wherever we were staying while traveling. One summer when I was about this girl's age, we spent in Roseburg, Oregon in a small apartment across the street from the rail station. All night long the locomotive engines kept idling...and I read and read and read. It was a waiting summer, and at the end of that long summer we found a place in Ashland and we stayed there until I left for college. But I always remember that summer, and being that age, and the waiting for something to happen.
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