open!
Miranda is kneeling outside in the grass, her nose almost touching the pages of the book on the ground in front of her. She has clasped in one two or three of the early spring crocuses which have begun to bloom in some places along the edges of the paths in the garden. The is some huge, musty old thing, the kind any librarian would weep to see sitting on the grass this way. Miranda, of course, is far too absorbed in her reading to care.