VSalisbury's soup

I must have forgotten to get the eggs last night because, this evening, as I walked into the dusk to shut up the chickens, I came home with twice as many as usual, and I carried all these extra eggs and piled them high in the plastic cup I'd found to carry them home. Despite the fear of the gloaming, the fear of the dark, the feeling of the egg was always good in my hand. Such a perfect design. Thank you nature for making something so gorgeous in shape and—really in function. The delicate elegance of pure potential.