Last evening we went for one of those meandering drives with no particular destination in mind. I knew the sunset was going to be spectacular because heavy dramatic snow clouds threatened over the lake, where the water was a swirling mosaic of turquoise, sapphire, and white. I trusted that when the time came to photograph the sunset, we'd have found a great place. Sure enough, we ended up on little more than a track beside the lake, and happened upon a marsh on the shore, filled with the cacophony of song and shore birds.
I walked along the beach, looking through my lens more than at my feet. When I finally stopped to just take my fill of the scene before me with my own eyes, I looked down at the ground in front of me and gave a gasp. "No way," I said to myself.
For right at my tiptoes was a gigantic, BLUE egg, something I am awfully fond of in my own collections. Only I usually collect glass and china... this egg was very real. Real, and unfortunately obviously abandoned, unhatched.
No one was going to believe me about the size of it. (I did think about taking it home with me, but, ew.) My husband, keeping warm and dozing in the car a fair ways away now, looked up to see me running down the beach, frantically waving for his attention. Someone else HAD to see this. He couldn't believe his eyes either. We agreed that the egg must have been almost six inches long, and three inches at the widest point.
When I got home, I searched the internet for identification, looking right away into herons and egrets, both species I know to frequent the area. Sure enough, they both lay large blue eggs. Trouble is, the heron's egg is bigger... to a maximum of three inches long. This egg was twice that size. Geese. Geese lay big eggs. But none of them are blue. What lays a giant blue egg? I mean, a really massive, ostrich-sized blue egg?
Well, turns out... emus do. Yeah, I'm stumped too. The only conclusion I can come to is, the egg was a special treasure meant for me to find. Sometimes life throws out little gifts and messages, whether we always catch them or not. I'm going to take my mystery of the giant blue egg, and smile knowing such a rare and bizarre thing could only have happened to me. Good thing I'm a photographer.