Eggvolution

“HELP!! I’m trapped! This hard oval is surrounding me and I barely have room to move.” My cries echoed back in bleak silence.

I keep brushing up against the curves of my prison and there’s no way out. My only comfort is the warmth I feel hours at a time, when I sense the weight of something settling over me. I feel safe, cozy and protected.

Ever so often, the warmth goes away and I am colder; I’m exposed to a harshness I can’t understand. I’ve decided to make a bold move and bash my head against the wall that thwarts my escape and–lo and behold–I’ve made a hole with my beak! I see bright light and smell wonderful aromas that I can’t quite identify. I keep up with the bonking until I can get my whole head through the crack.

“A way out! But, who or what are you?”

These two fluffy, awkward looking, gangly creatures are staring back at me. One blurts out–

“Hey, look! She’s finally managed to break out of the egg! It took her long enough,” the bigger fluff ball snorted.

“Where am I?” Who are you two?” I asked in a daze. Looking around me, I saw my old jail cell, two halves of white lying next to me. Around me were these rough, brown tubes, knitted together to form a railing barricading the three of us in the middle.

One of the two fuzzy creatures bonked me with his head–I guessed he was my bratty brother.

“You’re in the nest, stupid,” he chirped. “Don’t you know anything?”

“How am I supposed to know where this is–I just broke out a minute ago!”

I looked up and saw this huge shadow flying in, landing at the edge of the brown rail. It came towards us, holding a silvery flipping critter in his mouth. Involuntarily, my mouth opened wide and I realized I was really hungry–and this critter was the answer.

We jockeyed for position and opened our mouths wide and the bigger adult creature started tearing up the silvery thing and giving us yummy, juicy morsels, one beak at a time.

The other fuzzy ones got more than I did because they knew how to push me out of the way, but I got enough to fill me up.

I felt a strong connection to my fish deliverer and began to think, “Maybe he’s my protector?”

Soon, an even bigger protector flew in–she had a beautiful white head, a dangerous-looking yellow beak, and black feathered body. She came towards us and hovered, tucking us beneath her massive wings to keep us warm. She had this soft patch big enough to warm us and keep us snug and safe.

The next days were a blur to me–hunger, feedings, naps, and getting bonked out of the way by my two siblings. Turned out the two larger creatures were my dad and mom–the bigger one was our mother. She kept us warm and protected most times, but my dad did his part. I got very excited when I saw him flying in because it meant breakfast, lunch or dinner.

To my surprise, my body kept getting bigger and so did my hunger. We were always fighting with each other to be the first to get fed. Since I was the youngest, I usually was last, but there was always enough for us all.

One day, a strange thing happened. This white stuff started falling from the sky, building up in the nest and making us all feel really cold. Wind whipped the branches, shaking and scaring us. Mom showed up and crowded us under her, but because we’d all grown, it was getting tight under her belly. That night, the wind blew hard and the cold flakes crept all around my mom, finally covering her completely. I tried to center myself under her to keep warm, snuggling up against my brother and sister.

Dawn came. I wondered if the white stuff had stopped. Mom lifted off of us so we could peek out, but it was still very cold. Dad flew in with breakfast. That’s when I noticed that there were only two of us. Where was my brother? He’d been under Mom at the beginning of the storm–now he had disappeared.

Another day went by and the cold, white flakes started to melt away so we could move around a little more in the nest bowl. Dad flew in with a fish and moved slowly to the outer corner of the bowl. He picked up something in his beak.

“Oh, no!!”

It was my brother. He wasn’t moving. His fuzzy body was wet and limp. He had somehow worked his way out from under our warm haven and been exposed to the freeze. Dad gently took him in his beak to the side of the nest, up on the railing made from the brown tubes. A little later, Mom flew in, stared at my brother’s body, bowed her head, and gently picked him up and flew away. I never saw him again.

After the storm, my sis and I continued to eat and grow, eat and grow. We both discovered our wings and our big, yellow, clown feet with claws on the ends. I loved stretching out my wings. We called it “wingercizing.” My sister was much more daring than I was–she would flap her wings furiously, hop to the edge of the nest, jump onto a tube, and flap some more. I knew what she was trying to do but I was afraid. She wanted to fly like our parents did.

Then one day, she jumped out on a front branch, beating her wings fast. And then. . off she went. She flew!! Away!!

“Wait, wait for me! I’m not ready. You can’t leave without me!” But she did.

I spent the next few days working on my flapping. I ventured out on the same snag she had. I began to flap my wings as hard as I could.

“I can fly!” And off I went. Into that big, blue Big Bear Lake sky.