Blue Wonder

After raking the mulch back where it belonged, I walked through the full green grass that this early spring has made.  It's already tall and thick enough to make each shoe seem like the prow of a canoe cutting through the gentle ripples of a serene lake.  Of course, the reason I was out there was because Eva the Doodle had decided that the mulch needed rearrangement and, being self motivated when the end result is trouble, she took on the challenge. 

Walking in breeze buffeted blue grass is relaxing but I admit that I wouldn't have done it except for Eva's escapade.   Just as I reached the top of the small rise in our yard, below the limbs of our bald cypress trees, there lay a perfect blue egg mostly hidden low in the grass.  I checked in the tree and surrounding bushes for a nest but none was there.  This tiny blue egg did not have a chance without the nurturing of its mom so I picked it up and noticed that on the bottom there was a tiny crack - no doubt from the impact when it lit there.  No chance for a robin to grow inside the egg and peck its way out a few days hence.

What are the odds?  Pretty long, I'd think.  The circumstances that led to its being in that spot on this day as I walked by had to be the culmination of rare coincidence - or an awfully detailed plan that left not one detail to chance.  Regardless, though, of how or why, a baby blue robin's egg laying alone, directly in your path, gives pause to ponder, to wonder. 

Since we turned this blog blue for April, perhaps this egg was an omen or a talisman.  It might portend a time when we understand how to help a creature better emerge from a damaged shell.  Or it might simply be Mother Nature's way of joining in the effort to light it up blue for autism awareness.  Of course, it could just be an egg in the grass dropped in the process of a robin, or a stray cat, passing through.  Perhaps it landed there hoping for someone to intercede on its behalf but I didn't have any useful knowledge or skill to offer.  

A few weeks ago, on a trip to the Kansas City Zoo, we saw creatures of many an ilk and every size.  When Mason walked up to the giant glass tank, the sharks and dolphins would swim to him.  It could be coincidence or chance but the elephants and the marmots showed the same tendency.  Really, his brother and cousin often come to him, when needed, in much the same way.  When we walked five abreast (Papa and his grandsons) with our fingers interlaced, this link with the animals added another glimpse into his world and how closely connected all creatures can be.

Knowing that tomorrow the mowers would come with their machines screaming as if afire and racing through the cutting of grass, I couldn't leave the little egg lie.  So I gently lifted it up and carried it to a place beside the sundial that sat in a spot surrounded by mulch.  I dug in the dirt and dragged back the mulch - pretty much like Eva had taught me to do.  This would be a spot where the blue robin's egg could stay a little bit warmer, stay in tact a little bit longer, and be marked by a sundial telling - it's time to value every bit of creation.

--td