Corners

I fold the corners of the pages of my books, and that’s absolutely fine, although my librarian friends may not agree. Two of my dearest friends have been librarians at some time in their careers, which I find an unusual co-incidence because I don’t think there really are so many librarians in our world.

For me, the folded corners honour words that are important, clauses that stand out from the rest, the author’s gift of connection that implores a response. Sometimes I add my thoughts as scribbles in the margins, doodles and diagrams on a spare half page or above a chapter title. Sometimes a post-it note or scrap of paper is stuck in; an idea I don’t want to forget. I have a friend who will only use post in notes and never turn over a corner. Perhaps she feels it’s less intrusive, less bold, more respectful. We’ve been exchanging books and thoughts for a while and now she leaves notes in my books too; I think they’re such a gift.

I know that sometime in the future I’ll return to these words, scribbles, thoughts, and ponder their significance, perhaps reflect on my growth or simply enjoy their beauty again.

Like words on a page, the corners of The Nesting Post are a gift, of our experiences and interests, collected, created, cultivated, each telling stories and making memories.