Each day brings its own surprises. Some of my favorite ones come right from the mouths of the guests of the library. Like tonight.
I'm giving a tour to seven-year-old cub scouts and pointing out some of the ways the library earned a gold award for being energy efficient. I show them the solar tubes, which provide such incredible light during the day that the electric lights dim to compensate.
One little guy raises his hand to add, "I like to think the sun reaches down and gets married in that tube and lights it up. And when he goes to sleep at night he tells all these light bulbs in here that it's their turn to shine."
I stop to look at him. The parents chatting stop for a moment in a little bit of surprise, too. Did I really just hear a seven-year-old personify the sun?
Later, they would all be like little puppies again--jostling for the best spots around our show-stopping book sorting machine. But for a moment, a little poet raised his voice and asked me to see the world through his own flickering kaleidoscope.