There is something magical about collecting eggs from your own flock of backyard chickens. It is difficult to describe, the leap that your heart makes as you peer into the nesting boxes and discover the most quiet and delicate scene. The eggs come in an array of colors and if you know your flock, you know each girl’s egg. Incredibly, each chicken’s egg is unique to her, including the shape and color. Sometimes, one or two or three, eggs are all nestled together in the fresh straw and shavings.
It is serene, a stolen quiet moment. As the girls are busy scratching in the run, I gently retrieve and cradle the eggs in my hands. Sometimes they are warm; freshly laid. My daughter likes to touch the warm eggs to her cheek. Then in her tiniest of hands, she examines the egg. She takes her time. Once she discovers who laid the egg, she thanks the responsible girl. I am always amazed that such a simple experience, can be so powerful. Instead of taking the time to smell the roses, I like to say, take time and collect the eggs. For me, it is an experience that I savor. I am delighted by this simple pleasure.
Photo Credit: Tilly’s Nest