Today I went for a long sanity walk around neighborhoods. I just needed to get out of my funk, with the intention to return home and get out of my FUNK (I hadn’t showered in three days 😳).
I started up my street. About a block away from my house I saw half a tiny Robin’s egg lying on the ground under a tree. I assumed it was a Robin’s egg by it’s Robin’s Egg Blue, though I actually have little to no real knowledge about bird things other than that I love to see and hear them.
This was one of those situations – I’m sure you’ve all experienced it – in which I was kicking myself for not examining the empty half-shell more thoroughly and telling myself to go back and take a picture of it, just to chronicle its existence beneath that tree at that time; the implication being that the half-shell was part of a greater whole that had accomplished its purpose: remaining until the resident chick had to leave.
I didn’t turn back. I mentally kicked myself for not doing so.
I walked on out of my neighborhood, my head gradually clearing, along with my mood, and ended up walking about three miles (!) to a park that was large enough to accommodate three baseball diamonds and a children’s play structure which was thoroughly wrapped tight, barring entry, with orange, plastic “fencing.” I sat under a tree for some time, pondering my own current lack of purpose and what, if anything I should do about it.
The sun came out. Where it had been cloudy and cool it was now warmer because of the sun and so I cut across the huge park and started a very long, roundabout walk back home.
When I got to the Main Street that would lead to my side street, there were a couple of people at a bus stop, so I dutifully half-crossed the street onto the tree-lined median separating the down traffic from the up traffic. (I was not wearing the obligatory face mask.) It was nice there, grassy and so I continued walking the median.
About a block and a half away from home, I came across another Robin’s egg, also only half, also under a tree, also empty. I was taken by this finding of such a rare (to me) treasure at both ends of my sanity walk. Not to make the same mistake of negligence as at the start, I reached down to try and pick up the tiny half-egg. It was so thin and fragile that it cracked even with my delicate touch. I couldn’t pick it up; I couldn’t bring it along with me.
This dual find did, however, leave me with a souvenir to take home with me: the reminder of the circle of life.
This, too, shall pass.