Three sets of waders are periodically stuck at different intervals as they make their way across the marsh. The simmering odor of decomposing plant life ascends from the breathtaking wetland, assaulting the nostrils of the wader wearers.
Six eggs, a slight shade of green, are at the mercy of the wader wearers, their large hands.
The gigantic mitts reach into the nest, lightly pulling three of the embryos from the scratchy flax straw, the bunched grass hay.
Had the oblong shell been held for just a moment and passed along, no one would have ever notice the quivering. Within its confined world, the forming blue bill is beginning to move, to shift, to outgrow what it has always known.
These hands are holding life; these eyes are straining to see through the egg, a human x-ray machine. Warmth emanates from the egg, roaring, a ball of heat waiting to detonate into the new world.
This egg is being given a change to hatch, a fortuitous opportunity to enjoy the feeling of flight, the migration south, a mating air show. Its house, its birthplace, is created by humans who take, but are responsible enough to give back.
Please note: The Writing Huntress is no longer affiliated with Delta Waterfowl.
Albert Einstein - "Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid."