The Unauthorized Aubudon

Yesterday I went to the MSU library to kill some time until Kevin came to pick me up on campus. I went there first to see if there were any books on tile to check out, then it started to dawn on me that a how-to book was probably not going to be found at the MSU library. I was right, since every time I looked up the search word "tile" it came back with mathematical tiling. I don't know what that is, I was looking more for "tiling for dummies." Anyway, I decided to peruse the faculty book section of the library. On the main floor is a cove where almost all the books faculty have authored or edited are kept. It's not a small space, and I've been through there before just to look and see what is there, how much knowledge is being produced on my campus, and if there might be anything interesting to check out. Indeed, yesterday I found a little gem.

There are several books of poems that faculty have written, and I check out a few of them. One in particular has pages filled with accompanying woodblock prints, and the poems are mostly about birds, thus the title, "The Unauthorized Audubon." I used to read a lot of poetry, and have my own collection of poetry books. Several from my own collection are from northwest poets. Every once in a while I read a poem from one of those books to get a sense of where I grew up and where I used to live.

Mountains and Rivers Without End from Gary Snyder
Toward the Distant Islands from Hayden Carruth
Working in the Dark from Samuel Green
The Business of Fancydancing from Sherman Alexie

I love all of these books.

I'm so happy to have found a few books of poetry from individuals here, where I live now. One reason I read poetry is to get a better sense of where I am, to feel grounded, and to understand my own landscape, whether that landscape is depicted explicitly or through just a gut sense in the poems. I read poetry to take breaths and be quiet so that I can make a map of what I hear and to put my feet back on the ground. And I read poetry because it creates a space for me for quiet, solitude, company, laughter, communion, and joy.