[A reminder that all broken things, even we, have a purpose and a beautiful, divine destiny: sterling silver, 23 karat gold, jade & wild bird egg shell]
Did I tell you about the beautiful little nest RW found me, months ago, while we were up at Tiffany Lake with friends? Well. He found a beautiful little nest in the marsh there and said, “Jillian! I have a present for you!” He’s just so tremendous about bringing me dead things and bones and antlers and shards of remains that he finds when he’s out hunting or away on fires. He knows I like to honor the remaining bits in some way or another and he knows that nothing tickles me more than a handful of feathers, baby animals or chicks in nests. He’s a woodsman and is so talented at finding these very sorts of things. As I was saying, he called me over to where he was standing and told me to look around very closely. So I did. Within seconds my eyes had located the perfect little ground nest, in a tuft of raised grass, directly above the bog water my toes were sinking into (it was terribly cold bog water, my toes were so frozen they were itchy) and I screamed. I couldn’t help it! The nest held four beautiful little speckled eggs and they were utter perfection. Perfection! I couldn’t stand it! I folded down to my knees — bog water be darned — to take a closer look and our friend’s dog promptly ran over and squashed the nest beneath her feet (oh woe was me, I nearly cried). Two eggs survived. Two eggs were destroyed. I carefully collected what I could of the broken egg shells and said aloud, “I will do something with these.“
And so, now I have.
