these are not technically eggs, they are shells. still themselves but hollowed out. my feelings about the holidays fluctuate from year to year. i try my best to keep them meaningful, but some years they fill me up and some years they hollow me out. this year, i’m feeling a little emptier than usual. our daughter is home from college with a sparklingly energetic boyfriend which has made home life happy and full of love and energy. but the big gatherings have taken more from me than they’ve given for some reason this year. on the other hand, part of what it means to reach your fifties is understanding that nothing stays the same. next year or the year after, i’m guessing, will be a peak to this year’s trough. i’m ready either way.
collection of pale colored eggs: chicken, pheasant, partridge