enthusiasm is contagious

I found a perfect robin’s egg walking to the beach. I should have left it and picked it up on the return trip. I was determined to document said egg all over the beach. it was small and delicious. I imagined poaching it. I imagined blowing out the center and placing it somewhere lovely.

I carried it delicately to a bench by the ocean. I tucked it into my left hand where I also held the hound dog’s leash.

the sky was lovely and low tide looked all green and brown and wondrous. while trying to erase cell phone pics to make room for new cell phone pix, cell phone ran out of juice, hound dog barked at a stranger, and egg juice exploded all over hand/pants/shoes/ground when hound lunged and egg was in the same hand as the leash.

so hound eats egg juice, I wash hands in the ocean, and perfect egg is crushed. let this be a lesson to you, documentarians. your cell phone is no national geographic. your dog is no jane goodall.