It Must Be Spring

We were having a serious workshop in the Fireside Reading Room. Library trends, products, changes in vendors, lots of necessary information gathering from heads of libraries in the Rochester and Buffalo areas. Suddenly, in the middle of a powerpoint presentation, we became aware that a young man had climbed the tree just outside the window. There he perched, his back against the trunk, his feet bracing against a sturdy branch. And from there he began playing his guitar and gazing out across campus as nonchalantly as if he were standing in the safety of his dorm room.

We simply stopped our meeting, completely dumbfounded at the audacity of youth. He was oblivious of our presence. I think half of us wanted to call his mother and the other half wanted to haul his butt down out of that tree. After all, he was as high as the second story of our library! But somehow we just couldn't bring ourselves to do anything. We stood there and gawked at him as if mesmerized. We are desperate for this youthful lust for living.

After a bit, he easily swung down from his stage and sauntered off, no harm, no foul. We shook our heads and went back to our labor, but his little foray into spring fever invigorated us all. Ah, to be young! I would not go back there for anything!