Now, here we are. Going full swing into the new time of year with plans for what comes, and then wouldn’t you know it?

 

A change! 

 

I was minding my own business coming out of a school at the end of the day of work with good people. Well, trying to come out of the school since it was like a maze when the person I was with said this.

 

Follow the yellow brick road.  

Wouldn’t you know it!  I looked down and there was yellow to lead me to the front door. 

 

Smiling, I realized that I must not have been the first or the twentieth person to have wandered the halls in that building. 

 

I looked up as I came to the front doors with my rolling crate of equipment in tow. 

Oh and yes, I was singing a certain song from a movie. 

 

Follow, follow, follow, follow….  You know the one. 

Now the song is in your head.  

 

You’re welcome!

 

Anyway, as I came to the doors looking up to the bright sky I saw a large truck. 

 

No, wait.  It was more than large.  It was a semi-truck right in front of the school. 

What in the world? Why is that there? 

 

As I came around the side of it I realized what it was. My grin got bigger, if possible. 

A Bookmobile

It was a Bookmobile. 

 

OhMyHeart. 

 

Suddenly I was back to being in the middle of summer as a child in front of a much smaller truck. 

 

The smell of musty books started to waft up in my memories then.  

 

Folks.  My friend watched me and said it is the same.  Kids still love to go inside as we are lucky enough to have the Bookmobile come to our school. 

 

Cool!

 

Here is what I have thought about since. 

 

Treasures. 

 

Words. 

 

Stories. 

 

Friends.

 

Read-A-Thons with treats and pillows.

 

Following the yellow brick road that day brought all of this to me. 

Books when I was young

I have also thought about the books I read when I was young that lead me to books I read now. 

 

Stories of adventure when everyone in a class came together to re-enact the story on the playground. I became a pirate and the seeker of solitude at the tops of trees while in the deep forest. 

 

The young one who found the secret way through to fun. 

 

I learned about people from all over the world. 

 

Do you remember reading or listening to stories when you were a child?  

Who read to you?  Who did you read to? 

 

I learned to love the stories in books and then the books themself.  Books that needed a place on a shelf.  

 

Now I have a wall of books here and there.  More stacks of books around in case there is a moment to snatch a bit of time to read.  

 

This memory of reading and listening to stories is active in my mind as I think about the hundreds of stories I have told in my head while walking down the street, riding a bike, while on road trips, sitting in hospitals, telling good night stories to small ones or tall ones, waiting for that one to call. 

 

Wondering what to do after that call.

Incredible to me

If I have a notecard or scrap of paper or, wait, even my hand to write on, the story becomes clues.  They become a bit of something more and that is incredible to me.  

 

How many have turned out to be true?  Many.

Life is like that. 

 

What story is being written in life at this moment? Time will tell. 

 

That is the very truth. The joy and intensity.  

 

What is there about one moment and memory, such as this from a large truck, bringing a cascade of more? 

 

At times, it is cleansing to me.  Like a waterfall of cool yet crisp and refreshing feelings that remind me to pause, be here in this time with this space. 

 

Other times, I watch and wait for the stories to tell themself as I follow the road to what comes next. 

 

What is your story telling you, my friends?   We are here with a scrap of paper or a hand.