This is the time when the baby hawks would have been ready to take their first flight. I miss being at the pond at 4:30AM each day to stare up at the nest searching for movement. There would be flapping and running as the sky behind the nest began to lighten. My camera would be running with a new tape and a fresh battery and the steam from my tea would be rising up in front of my face.

However at 4:30AM this morning had I been there standing at the edge of the pond I would have seen that the nest was still and silent. No movement except for maybe an odd molted feather or two blowing in a crisp morning breeze. There might also have been a dewdrop trickling down a twig or even down the sides of the quiet eggshells. Maybe there was a tiny mite alive inside the nest looking up at the eggs and seeing the dewdrops slowly running down their sides. Maybe the little mite could hear the sound of the dewdrops as they meandered down.

To the tiny mite the Universe ends as far up and around as her puny eyes could see and beyond that there is nothing. So maybe in her little world she could not only hear the rushing dewdrops but she could also hear the tapering echoes of the lives within the eggshells that did not spring to being. Maybe it’s a maddening sound ricocheting back and forth getting softer with every bounce but never to be ever completely silent.

I wish the little mite could make her way over to those eggs and put her tiny hand onto their dew covered shells to quiet the echoes so those little lives to be could feel some peace. Then they could calm themselves enough to listen to the many other bits of life that did spark into being and which broke themselves free from their shells over the years and have since grown strong enough to lure the mighty Sun up from its sleep each day to stir the wind so they can fly.

The gentle touch of the little mite should also pacify the sleeping lives nestled within those cold shells that they have many brothers and sisters out in the world negotiating with the Sun, the Wind, the Earth and Heavens to give them the chance one day to have their moment of springing into existence. For now I hope they sleep sound until their time arrives to have a taste of the wonderful mystery we call life.