every day is a good day
The hens have outdone themselves again, laying a beautiful basketful of eggs. These are from yesterday afternoon. My favorite are Midge’s speckled, purple-hued egg in the middle, and Hazel’s freckled egg below Midge’s. They are so beautiful, I’ll leave them on the counter for a while yet. A basket of multi-hued eggs is as pleasing to the eye as a bouquet of flowers.
This morning’s eggs are almost too beautiful to eat. They belong in a museum, maybe in a hands-on exhibit. Let the visitors arrange them in any order they would like, from lightest to darkest, smallest to largest, most random, most beautiful. After each visitor has arranged the eggs to their liking, photograph that arrangement, and at the end of the exhibit, display all the different arrangements the visitors designed. Also have photographs of all the people who arranged the eggs, and let people guess who did which arrangement. Or show photographs of each chicken and give out prizes to those who correctly guess which chicken laid each of the six eggs.
Every day the hens lay eggs with such beauty, they are small works of art. When you buy them in a store, they are cold and lifeless. But when you gather them throughout the day, they are warm to the touch, almost hot if the hen has just laid them and left the nest. You can tell they are living things.
