On finding clues.

Last Saturday Z & I arose before the sun

to drive up to Visalia for Z to run

with his running group.

While he was getting in about 12 miles, 

I meandered around the park.

The park was lovely, but I wouldn't 

say it was peaceful.

You see, it is evidently home

to large, large numbers of geese &

other water fowl, 

so the noise level was rather high.

Even so, the park was interesting, 

with several waterways, ponds, 

picnic pavilions, playgrounds, 

open green spaces,

and historic buildings.

I think my favorite thing was near the picnic pavilions.

I was really just cutting across one of them to 

get to a bridge, when something in the grass caught my eye.

It was part of a coloured eggshell.

At first I just chalked it up to the recent Easter holiday, 

assuming that this park would be a likely spot

for a large egg hunt.

But then I saw some other eggshell remnants, 

and beyond them a vast rainbow

of forgotten confetti

scattered all around the pavilion's 

concrete edges.

I love images & stories,

 and I especially love little clues that allow

me to piece together a small history.

It became obvious to me that this was way

more than just your ordinary Easter egg hunt.

This was an epic Easter egg celebration.

Someone had taken the time to hollow

the eggs, dye the fragile shells,

fill them with paper confetti,

and seal them off with tissue paper.

Can't you just imagine all the participants

running through the grass, armed with

eggs of all hues, 

and then chucking them at each other!

The rain of color that floated down

in a cloud after each egg burst!

It made me laugh aloud, 

standing all by myself, to think of 

what a joyous scene that must have been.