As I walked Grace this morning, I came across an eggshell. That's odd, I thought, the lady that lives here doesn't normally leave trash in the yard. Then I noticed that although the egg was the same size as a chicken's egg, it was more rounded. It was slightly off-white, but not brown enough to be a brown egg, just a buttermilk tan. I looked around. I saw another egg, then another and another. A whole nest, maybe 5 or six eggs, were scattered about in various forms of disarray. Next, I saw it and it broke my heart. a single baby bird laid out on the sidewalk. I took its picture. I wanted to document the fact that this little thing was alive at one time, that it mattered. It wasn't a pleasant task. Not at all. At the time it seemed rather important. I think it was the wood duck drake and hen that I had seen earlier looking for a tree to nest in. Last year they had successfully hatched their eggs, but they were on the ground before they could fly and there is no water in our neighborhood to swim in. So, one by one they were picked off by stray cats. It is sad for them. I looked back at the sidewalk and noticed the weeds sprouting in the cracks. Somehow life seems to go on no matter the obstacle. Some things have it easier, some a tougher. Through it all, life goes on. As I am writing this, the very first June bug is buzzing on the window screen.