Timothy Gager

The blue bird's egg in the thicket was nearly stepped on by my baby sister running for the sake of it. Running just to run. Running to run ahead of us, with a ribbon in her hair trailing like the tail of a kite. The sun is going down, the glare frames the shot. She's running.

Twenty years later I think of her. In my mind stores a still picture of her along with this mental movie. It's not a grainy 8 mm shot, but a clear, slow motion sharp colored scene. It is beautiful as was my baby sister.

Last week, as I hiked the shoreline of Chatham, I nearly stepped on a small blue egg. I've been here before and I try to remember. I try to remember more than the sum of everything I've forgotten.