Adventures in meter reading is my current status: every time I go out on the field something is bound to happen. To me. To somebody. Something is bound to happen.
One beautiful summer day this year I squished a zygote, or an undeveloped bird embryo to be more specific. Or I really should say I picked it up to examine it and with an iota of too much pressure it exploded within my hand.
This little birdie did not even have a chance to hatch!
Now my guilt is a bit more than weighted in my mind, so many thoughts were flying through my mind as I randomly saw this white object on the ground and what, just had to pick it up on first impulse? Why do we do the things that we do, when the outcome could be less than desirable. (as it turned out this particular day in May)
The first of three thoughts that wriggled around up there in my gray matter in the span of 3.6524 seconds was: Could this be a stone? Its just so smooth... the next thought was: Or could this be one of those plastic eggs that you can buy to go with a toy kitchenette like I used to have as a child?
The next thought was more like a shock: !!OH SHIT!!! It was an egg. The incredible, edible, now nonexistent, egg.
A delicate, ultra smooth, lighter than you can fathom, simple yet extraordinary egg. to which I happened to come upon, pick up, and (gulp) totally dessimate in less than 8 seconds.
I wouldnt make a very good oologist.
Sigh
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