Thursday, April 18, 2013
the word is lovely, the image is lovely... all that shell covering such a provision of sustenance, a possibility deep within. (one needs a rooster for possibility to produce, one does.)
beneath the coop we found two wildly large piles of eggs, a surprise to us... what with the coop having internal 'laying boxes' which have their own familiar layers and our small family of hen being just the one, and the neighbors' small collection of visiting hens ... someone's been laying eggs all this early spring, each day, a large healthy brown egg... who? why? and they have been there, without predators, for weeks... have we no raccoons? really?
it is a shame to let them go, but we must... and with great trepidation and fear we move them out, to the bin, to the hopes of 'not-cracking' that make us move so slowly and carefully with this precious, once nourishing, little bomb of rottenness.
we are moving slowly, removing the rotten... its a prune, a cutting-out of what burns and is malignant. it is a choice to face the light, as always, with a clear heart, with our possibility flickering and yet strong.