Library

When in a new harbor town we make it a point to visit the library. It is a place to obtain local information; often it has local art and artifacts, and many times books for sale. The State of Michigan’s towns have the best selection of unique books. A few of them kept me entertained for years while cruising up and down the Great Lakes.

I wondered why these little libraries had such great books. Is it because a population of well-heeled summer folk with eclectic taste occupies the towns, or are the locals beneficiaries of a first rate education and the curiosity that comes with it. I admit to a big city prejudice in my thinking.

Here in St. Andrews, New Brunswick the library had a book sale in the sub basement. Though the books were not of interest to me there were magazines at five for a Loonie. I purchased four Small Craft Advisor and one The Sun. Small Craft Advisor is self explanatory (boats, of course) but The Sun requires an explanation.

The Sun is a skinny literary magazine with a few black and white photographs. I first found it online when I was trying to publish something, anything. They never did publish my work but I continued to read it in paper form when I occasionally bought a copy at the Women and Children First bookshop in Andersonville, on Chicago’s north side not far from my home.

After a few rejections, I realized my nonfictions stories were not depressing (or insightful) enough. The magazine is a beautiful piece of work and extremely well edited. It is palpable for the eyes, if that is possible. I was immediately drawn to it, and then, once reading had to stop.

I know that all is not right with the world, and due to my years in health care, I have experienced much of it. But my life has been blessed. The issues I have had have been of my own making.

I was raised in a loving family, had a delicious meal almost every night, did not want for much and the things I wanted I mostly got. I obtained a comprehensive education several times over and I am writing this from the pilothouse of my boat hanging on an anchor in a small cove in maritime Canada.

So, when I saw The Sun I thought I would give it another try. A poem, several letters to the editor, a compelling piece of non-fiction, and I had to put it down: too melancholy for a warm sunny day in New Brunswick.

Chamcook Harbor, NB, CA