Have you ever wandered in locked areas?  Like at school, or in a mall?  The thrill of being somewhere that you have discovered despite the best efforts of security, is tingly, and travels along the spine, and the hair on my arms and on the back of my neck raise up and stand.

Even now, I have temptations to open closed doors…. Or to try the door handle to see if it has been locked.  I will peer in, to try to see who is in the room….  To see what the room looks like… if it is in fact the Stationary Room, from which I can take a pen or two, or even a stapler.

As I have “matured” in my adulthood, this habit of opening closed doors is getting silly to play.  I am recognized where I go, because where I go that is different, and new, and worthy of door-opening adventure, are often other offices, like the office I sit in to do my job.  When going with my children, I will abstain from blatantly just opening doors, but on occasion I have found excuses to open closed doors, even when they are watching.

Even now, the biggest adventure I have had, was when I was still young.  As I get older, I find that exciting adventures are more had if you get on a plan and travel to another country.  Where things, and almost everything, is just different.  Being in these foreign countries is like being in someone else’s building.  If not their exact home.  There is some thrill to it.  But even these expensive adult adventures do not compare with my greatest adventure, yet, in opening a locked door.

I was in school at the time.  There were hundreds of buildings on campus, and I probably had been in a handful of them.  There were maybe a hundred that I could see when I walked to get to class, but I didn’t have the time of the knowledge to walk into them.  And, when during the beginning of my semesters, I would walk yet, to another building, I sometimes may have tried a door or two, and about up to half the time, the door would be locked.

About halfway through school, I decided that the main libraries on campus were becoming boring.  They were always packed with students, and the sense that I was one of the number of students that only stuck to the main and tried thoroughfares was beginning to make me feel what I knew was happening….  I was a number.

So, in no systematic way, except through guesswork, I started to pick buildings, hoping that I could walk into an open door to a library that felt a little less cavernous for the the purpose of blocking sun, wind, and snow, from the students inside.  Near the south end of campus was a stone building three stories tall, and with two bell towers.  It was greyish brown stonework with narrow, slatted windows.  The word “KNOX” had been carved into the stonework above the main door.  I guessed it was the “Knox Building.”

Well, I had seen it several times at least without deciding to explore inside.   So, one afternoon, with one of my classes unexpectedly cancelled, I needed to find someplace quiet to be.  Not doing readings until after the professor has lectured us his opinion, is not the best way to learn material.  So, with my newfound promise to read, because I had been spared, I immediately thought of the Knox Building.

It was not very far.  The weather was overcast, but not too cool yet.  I went up the dozen steps up to the two arched doors and pulled…..  Yes, it did open.  Inside, it was dim, and the ceiling was high.  So, from this look, I knew the main floor was two stories high.  There were no electric lights, just rows and rows of column windows.  Slatted so that the surface of glass was not large.  The foyer was not too big to make me feel too small.  It felt roomy, and if it had been lighted, probably I would feel a welcome.  There was no one around, so, when I say I got that thrill, this was it.

I really had not idea how big the building was, and is, but I was not in a hurry.  On my left, once I took a good look, I could see through another couple of arched doors, which had slatted windows build into the middle.  It was familiar to me.  It was a chapel, very large, with tall arched ceilings reaching three stories, higher than the ceiling in the hallway.  No one was inside, and it was quiet, and I swore to myself I knew the smell of a church chapel.  I lingered only a few seconds, looking straight at the altar, then to the smaller alcoves on the left and right.  When I turned to come back out, to the right hand side of the main doorway, was a wall with a row of windows, and out the windows I could see a courtyard.  So, with no real choice, I turned to walk forward into the building, more.

By the time I had walked around the main floor, passing many doors, I was unable to find any secret or excitement.  The doors were locked, or obviously, there were stairways that led to the basement….  I was not tempted to do that.  I decided to go through the doors that led to the courtyard.

When I entered, only fifteen minutes into my adventure in the Knox Building, I was met with an empty place.  There were stone pathways, and greenery planted into the lawn and along the surrounding stone walls of the building.  It was quiet.  No pigeons.  A bright day, without the shining sun.  No rain.  And no sound.  It was an outdoor library!  Unfortunately, again,  I was not tempted to sit there and study.

So much for my experience.  I had enough of mousing around, and just went to one of the libraries I knew.  In the end I got in a good forty-five minutes of reading before my next class.  Adventures like these are getting fewer, but I keep remembering the adventures I have had.  I will remember the smell of was candles as the wax is still hot.  And the idea of a lit candle as the flame dances, because close to the flame, it is very warm….  Leading to hot.  Now, if I glance through my bookshelves at home, I remember the marathon readings I did, and, I am glad that now, I can take all the time I want, to finish a book that I am reading.