I have been living in Woodville, TX for a few months now. While it is a beautiful place surrounded by pine trees and lakes and red dirt roads, I have not heard a single rooster crow or hen cluck since I have been here. I see homemade signs around the outskirts of town advertising fresh eggs but still no sight of my favorite bird.
The other day I opened a carton of eggs that were made by some local hens. I had to stop and admire the variety in shapes and colors of these eggs. I told my boyfriend that each hen produces an egg unlike any other hen, it is their thumbprint. I can still remember what the eggs my small flocked produced looked like. I really can. Those eggs will be forever imprinted in my mind.
