Today, my youngest found a lone, blue, robin’s egg. The smooth, tiny shell didn’t have a crack on it and was still warm. The spot where it was found was in one of my flower gardens and nowhere near a nest. The boys cradled the blue egg wondering if there was a tiny, baby bird inside. My six year old suggested we put it in a spare nest that sits tucked away under some vines in hopes a mother robin would find it and keep it warm. With high hopes they carefully set it inside the artfully woven nest promising to check on it in the morning.
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