Dust to Dust

For the last few months, I have been captivated by the demolition of Salem State University's old campus library. It's being torn down that we have our gorgeous new library in place. I pass the site every day, to and from the parking lot, and every day I can't help but watch. Sometimes I take a picture. Sometimes a few lines for a poem comes to mind. That's when I immediately stop walking, dig for my notebook, and write down the bones.

There have been days when I've breathed in dust from the site, or water from the hoses keeping the dust down has sprayed me. Construction trucks like yellow mechanical ducks peck away, story by story, at this structure. The photos I'm showing you now are from early last week. The building is all but torn down now, and by weeks' end, there will be nothing left of this 30-year-old structure but a mountain of rubble.

Because I've been writing daily observations, I've written a few drafts based on the destruction. It's just fascinating watching this building come down brick by brick. I'm in awe of where inspiration hides, and where and when it chooses to reveal itself. And it's not just me. When I pull into the parking lot, there's always someone taking photos or writing in a notebook with one eye to the excavators trying to capture the moment. I find it all terribly beautiful.


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