Magic on the Waves


One of my favorite places to hike is the Saint Croix River.  I have gone there for years just to walk along the shore in my bare feet, feeling the sand squish between my toes.  It has always been a place were I could find peace and get back to my center, which is interesting because my brother drowned on this river.

I day several years ago I was having a bad day. I decided to go the river to get back into my center.  The river has always given me gifts when I go. Often they are significant messages for me for where I am in my life.  I was hoping to be gifted with something that would help me shift my mood.

I arrived at the river and descended the stair.  Some time I should count the stairs to see how many their are. I am guessing about 50.  Going down it doesn’t really matter abut coming up it seems like forever before you get to the top.  I went to the waters edge and began to walk.  For a few minutes I watched the swallows flying in and out of their nests that they had created out of mud on the cliff face.  Once a nest was completed it looked like an organic part of the cliff.  The cliffs along this part of the river are peppered with these clay creations.

I walked to the water and took off my shoes and began to walk.  I love the feel of the sand on my feet as the water rolls in over them.  It is organic and cool.  Walking in the water calms me.  I walked only a few feet when a wave carrying an egg came rolling toward me.  Yes a very large egg! I bent down and swooped up the egg in my hand.  I was stunned to receive this gift that was in perfect condition.  As you can see in the photo the egg is dull white with brown splotches on it and is almost 4 inches long from point to point. I picked it up and in almost filled the palm of my hand.  As soon as I picked it up the thought came into my head that it was an eagle’s egg, but I didn’t know for sure.

A pair of blue herons flew by and it seemed they were looking down at me.  Maybe there were scouts out looking for an egg that rolled out of a nest at the heron rookery up stream.  If you have ever seen a rookery the nests are stacked on top of one another like so many condos.  Maybe the egg had fallen from a goose or a swan as she flew over and it dropped safely into the river.  Something had saved if from cracking. Who has eggs roll up on a wave and land in their hand?  All I knew for sure was I was just gifted with an egg.  It was a somewhat smelly but beautiful egg.

I stood at the water’s edge with an egg in my hand and knew that I was holding a metaphor for new life, a time of birthing, a new beginning.  If it was an eagle egg, what a great metaphor for the birth of freedom and new vision!  Now I had shifted back into my center, into that place of patient waiting, that a few hours ago had seemed so hard to contain.  Now it was easy because I understood the metaphor of the gift I had received.

(When I did the research it turned out to be an egg from a Golden Eagle)


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