Autumn does not officially begin until September the twenty-third, and it is still hot here in Florida, but I feel like summer is over. Maybe in part I feel this way because now I drive back and forth to work with the yellow school buses. I remember those buses from my youth. We did not have air conditioned buses in my day. It was hot in there and sticky. And often it was decided on those bus rides who were to be bullied and who were not.

Public school was a long time ago. And it certainly feels like a long time ago. But the memories of yellow school buses are sharp and clear: driving past a graveyard all covered in fog like an old horror movie, seeing the flashing lights of a fire engine zip through the dark. On the first day back I was nervous. And it is the first days that I remember the most.

The character of the library changes as the new school year begins. The mornings are quiet. Senior citizens come in for the morning papers and to check email. Young mothers with the children too young for school look at books and movies. Late afternoon brings students with homework and sometimes special research projects. The photocopy machine and the printer are busy. A new school year begins.