Lightly Child, Lightly

I worked at a falcon-breeding center. In one room were banks of expensive incubators containing falcon eggs. Through the glass, their shells were the mottled browns of walnut, of tea-stains, of onion skins…These were forced-air incubators with eggs on wire racks. We weighed them each day, and as the embryo moved towards hatching, we’d candle them: place them on a light and scribe the outline of the shadow against the bright air-cell with a soft graphite pencil, so that as the days passed the eggshell was ringed with repeated lines that resembled tides or wide-grained wood. But I always left the incubation room feeling unaccountably upset, with a vague disquieting sense of vertigo. It was a familiar emotion I couldn’t quite name. I finally worked out what it was on rainy Sunday afternoon. Leafing through my parents’ albums I found a photograph of me a few days after my birth, a frail and skinny thing, one arm rings with a medical bracelet and bathed in stark electric light. I was in an incubator, for I was exceedingly premature. My twin brother did not survive his birth. And that early loss, followed by weeks of white light lying alone on a blanket in a Perspex box, had done something to me that echoed with a room full of eggs in forced-air boxes, held in moist air and moved by wire. Now I could put a name to the upset I felt. It was loneliness.

That was when I recognised the particular power of eggs to raise questions of human hurt and harm. That was why, I realised, the nests in my childhood collection made me uncomfortable; they reached back to a time in my life when the world was nothing but surviving isolation. And then. And then there was a day. One day when, quite by surprise, I discovered that if I held a falcon egg close to my mouth and made soft clucking noises, a chick that was ready to hatch would call back. And there I stood, in the temperature-controlled room. I spoke through the shell to something that had not yet known light or air, but would soon take in the revealed coil and furl of a west-coast breeze and cloud of a hillside in one easy glide at sixty miles an hour, and spire up on sharp wings to soar high enough to see the distant, glittering Atlantic. I spoke through an egg and wept.

— Helen Macdonald, Vesper Flights (Grove Press, August 25, 2020) 


Notes:

  • Photo: Incubator
  • Post Title & Inspiration: Aldous Huxley: “It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.”

Monday Morning Wake-Up Call


In photography and film, a broken egg can be perfectly unscrambled to its original state. But in real life, quantum mechanics prevent even a single particle from reversing its own course through time. From “For a Split Second, a Quantum Computer Made History Go Backward.”


Notes:

  • Source: Thank you Beth @ Alive on All Channels.
  • Inspired by: “What I’d learned was reversal. Things that had been splintered could be intact again. Not long after, when we faced events that caused us sorrow, I yearned for that same erasure. Undo this. But although we tried, each in our own way, no one was able to go back even one step.” By Chia-Chia Lin, from The Unpassing (Farrar, Straus and Giroux. May 7, 2019) 

Bed Time

May you sleep the most famous sleep: the night kind, one-third-of-your-whole-life-like…This kind of sleep is an egg: broken, mixed in, eaten, membrane shredded and forgotten like the torn-up dreams that let you go…The day was made for you to join the others…They are thirsty and smart and aching, waiting for you to carry your load.

Of course I need one

easter-egg-topper

THE GADGET | The Perfect Breakfast Mate |  The Rösle Egg Topper:

Lovers of soft-boiled eggs and eaters of hard-boiled Easter leftovers, take note: Your lives are about to get a whole lot easier. The German kitchen-accessory maker Rösle has designed a gadget whose sole function (unless you can think of another) is to create a clean, lateral crack in the top of your egg. Place the device on top of a cooked egg, pull the spring-loaded lever as far as it will go and release. Next step: Gently pry the cap of the shell off, exposing the soft interior of the egg. The Egg Topper magically cuts with laser precision, bringing a touch of polish to a humble breakfast. $22, rosleusa.com


Source: wsj: Egg Gadget by Rösle via rosleusa.com

T.G.I.F.: Give your egg a break…

funny, laugh, egg, humor, art

art, egg, funny, laugh, humor

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