The robin´s egg

I don´t know exactly when it started…when I started looking on the ground for treasures, but I know it goes way back.

I distinctly remember being in New Mexico, in a place called Acoma where there were these Native Americans, the Acoma Pueblo, living on a 370 foot high rocky surface.
The 7 year old Mara from back then heard the guide say something like “a lot of precious stones can be found in this area”. And from that phrase on, I had my eyes glued to the ground, in search for some shiny stones.

Then I remember bringing all kinds of smooth pebbles from the seaside, for my grandmother to have… cause I thought they were magic, or real diamonds that needed a bit of help to shine. (on, like crazy…)

This passion for finding things…might be tied to the detective tv series I loved to watch as a kid, and still do. The idea that opening your eyes just a bit can help you see sooo much more than what other people see, the fact that you can find quintessential elements that some other people needed to solve some long forgotten puzzle…it´s part of the whole thing.

So ok, parents say watch where you´re going, don´t look at your feet, look around too, don´t pick things up from the ground, you might never know where they´ve been. But I´m 21 now:D

On Friday I was walking towards the Williamsburg Transportation Center, to pick up my friend Ana who was arriving there.

So that is how I spotted it, in the grass, at the base of a tree. It was blue-green, a faded colour, but so beautiful and smooth, and I stepped closer to see that it was not some plastic candy wrapper, but 3 quarters of a tiny eggshell, baby bird had made its exit a while ago.

It was not some Easter egg, with fake colouring, or some plastic toy. It was the most beautifully coloured thing, the most fragile, and wonderful thing I had ever found…

At the Williamsburg Transportation center I met and old man, a really nice college professor from Massachusetts (there´s a song that goes “and the lies..all went down in Massachusetts”). After talking about stuff like the American society today and the Romanian society in communist Romania, we had to part ways (Ana´s bus had arrived!) and I showed him the egg that I was holding in teh palm of my hand.

“Oh, that´s a robin´s egg. “, the jolly old bearded man said, thus solving the mystery I was ready to google when I got home.

As we walked away he said “may your hearts remain as pure as that robin´s egg”.
And I hope he knew more than I knew, or saw in me more than I see, because I sure wish that whatever level of “pure” is still left in my heart will remain, or increase…
robinsegg
For there is nothing worse than losing hope and faith in the world you are born into.

*pic via http://depts.washington.edu/natmap/photos/birds/robin_eggs_20070426_01tfk.jpg

About Mara Ambrosie

"I contain multitudes" W. Whitman. *poză de www.cataling.blogspot.com
This entry was posted in English, stories, thought-flow, United States, Work and Travel. Bookmark the permalink.

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