A Miraculous Egg
posted by mjd
in Birds, Religion, Spring, Visions | 3 Comments »
Wade in the water
You’ll never get wet
If you keep on doing that rag.
–Robert Hunter
The Stories of Eva Luna
The Kojiki: Records of Ancient Matters (...
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I found an uncracked robin’s egg once, when I was a child, in the back yard of my grandparents’ house–where I now live again. I’ve thought about it a lot since I moved back here. I have always loved that color.
I guess I’m lucky to have had robin’s nesting on our property a lot, and have found eggs frequently, as well as entire nests. They aren’t the brightest tools in the birdshed, and prone to choosing precarious spots, such as last year’s christmas wreath that never got removed and tossed. Or the hanging flower basket, in spite of daily watering.
I never see that color without thinking of Joan Baez’s line:
“I recall your eyes were bluer than robin’s eggs,
My poetry was lousy, you said…”
I believe that was supposed to be a reference to her relationship with Bob Dylan.
I have an uncle who is an amateur naturalist of sorts, who lives in the woods and goes hunting for birds’ nests with his kids. Sometimes when he finds an abandoned nest he brings it home, blows out the eggs and keeps them as mantle decorations.
In that spirit, I tried blowing out my robin’s egg. They are very fragile. It blew up in my face. How’s that for an omen?