Saturday, July 5, 2014

The Cycle of Life

This evening my son pulled the ladder around and set it up to see a branch over the chair where I sit with my coffee and tablet in the morning or wine and book in the evening when I want to commune with nature.  He wondered what was inside the nest on the branch and, sure enough, he hit paydirt.  Two beautiful blue eggs.  What a prize!
Back yard booty

Now, of course, I'm wondering if so late in the summer these eggs could still be viable.  Down the street, my neighbor with the monster lenses spent a few hours today sitting on the sidewalk at the end of his driveway waiting for an opportunity to catch a shot of the bluebird babies nesting in the hole in his tree.  He had settled in with his sophisticated equipment, including a parabolic microphone, to see and hear the chirping baby birds.

I wonder if my eggs belong to a late-blooming mother whose sentiments are pure but whose understanding of the cycle of life is lacking.  She might want to take some lessons from the bluebird momma down the block.

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