We don’t do corners anymore in today’s schools, I am happy to report.
Remember Little Jack Horner who sat in a corner? The nursery rhyme loses its credulity, because a naughty child never got a chair for sitting in the corner, never mind treats. A Christmas pie? I don’t think so! (Unless there’s some political satire being expressed. Those little rhymes are not as innocent as they seem.)
Instead, the child in the corner was made to stand until his or her legs were numb. Sticking a piece of gum on the end of the offender’s nose was sometimes employed.
But I love corners anyway: I love to cut them, and find my way out when I’m backed into one. I like to imagine the Four Corners of the world, and exotic corners where streets intersect all over the world. I am intrigued by the way people peer out of the corners of their eyes, and how people will often stipulate them as places to meet.
Here’s a little corner with a partial footprint that I photographed this frosty morning when my sweet husband invited me out for a walk, and breakfast.