Don't Laugh at Me, Please.

(My mom came to visit last week, so I wasn't able to write as much while she was here because, well... I was busy enjoying her company.)

We had a pretty bad storm one evening last week. Thunder, lightning, howling, vicious wind. The power went out (a few times), the rosebushes were ripped off the side of our house, trash cans (not ours, luckily!) went rolling down the street... you get the idea. Anyway, in one of our wall-climbing rosebushes, there was a bird's nest. The morning after the storm, I went outside to inspect the damage and found the bush torn from the side of the house, with the nest thrown to the ground. There were 5 small bird eggs smashed on the driveway below.

I don't know why, but for some reason this made me sad. Very sad. So sad, that I almost started crying. I don't know if it's because I am hormonal and therefore, every little thing seems to send me into tears, but I honestly felt the waterworks coming. Or maybe because I am a mom, and I know how precious babies (I mean, eggs?) are. I was sad for that poor Mama Bird that lost her "babies" to that big storm.

I just looked at those tiny cracked, broken shells on the concrete and cried. And I'm still not sure why. I know it's nature, and that's the way things go sometimes, but it still hurt my heart to see them there.

And so it goes...