deeds - the need of the hour? time of reckoning is here, indeed!

She sat watching, anxious.

Feeling involved yet not in the loop.

Life is fragile- so birth is an event.

They were enroute to the hospital, the date and time for delivery was scheduled.
Everything was in a state of flux.
Both scientists, they always lived on a timebound, preplanned roadmap.
Today, no contact, no reply to frantic messages.

The Hindu in her urged the diya to be lit- even though the sunlight was bright.
Calling in every favor she was owed, promising to always be a giving person, even pledging her life away for a safe, painless birth, she watched her better half listening to random music, walking around restlessly - both awaiting any scrap of news.

Now the couple were on the way to the facility that would bring out their fifth grandson into this world.
The sense of heartdropping, gut wrenching, fear lingered.
Of course, keep busy mantra that grandmas do- she walked to the wet grinder, slowly adding a spoonful of water to get the batter just right.
Grandpa juilaned ginger, stirring the semolina before judging if it was time to add water to cook up the dish that neither really could stomach.

Breathing in deep, she decided to add bananas, coconut, incense sticks as offerings, the fragrant rose blooms added to the ambiance.
The silver lamp lit just right, the flame glowed steadily.
A good sign, she signalled to nervous grandpa.

Time stood still, the grinder stopped, the wick wavered.
Both of them held hands, every breath labored, slowly dispersed.

A bladde of grass, a sapling, plant or tree?

A blade of grass, a sapling, plant or tree

What oh what will I grow up to be?

In the era of stress and virus

Will I grow into who I am meant to be?

When time has lost meaning, now seems forever

Will forever be the now for me?

Just yesterday my friend played with me

Today he is sick, I cannot him even see

Or meet to console, our plans now on hold

Who, when, why, what can I see

A future where I need the ABCs

Or just the now to live and love?

Will I grow from toddler to teen, tween, adult

Or perish like unwanted weeds exposed to Roundup?

Now more than ever before, the time to know

Live, grow, love the morrow?

Yes, the earth is breathing, the sky is clear

Blue the color, birds sing cheer

Animals know no fear, the pig lies with her piglets

In the middle of the road, as no cars zoom here.

Butterflies, bees hover to collect nectar

Trees grow green, no conflict here

Time is frozen, capsulated, in contrast 

To just the before year.

Hail fellow humans before it is too late

We all must encounter Fate

Change the way we treat sentient beings

Who show us just how to do it?

Live and let live

Grow, show others how

Slow down, the end is far

Just enjoy the ride, the journey for all

Is Mother earth rebounding from the clutches 

Of empty thoughts, and churches

Lonely roads, concrete edifices

Family ties, homes, happiness.

Breathe easy, eat simple

Vegetables, fruits, nuts, plants, leaves

Let animals roam free, honey bees soar

Cows nurse calf not humans galore

We decide!

A jolt that shook me during COVID 19

The 15 week long state shut down was down to 2 weeks, then hey we would be free.
Free to wine, dine, travel, dance, barhop, sway to music, visit libraries, gyms, salons, hair and nail updates- life will be cool again.
Yesterday (N3), a neighbor three houses down the street called to say that our birdhouse was almost ready. He had the tall pole, built the house out of water proofed wood, we only needed to get the quick fix cement to set it up in our backyard near the vegetable garden that I had been working on.

So after almost 13 weeks of being under house arrest, we drove over to Walmart for quickdry cement, miracle grow, soil, some spring plants, gleefully enjoying the sun, wind, bright sky and white clouds scattered over it.
Calling N3, we waited for his cheery response. Voicemail- hmm he always picked up the call, never checked voicemail as he was an elderly Vietnam war vet-- what could have happened?
I called his wife, B, she is a lady of few words.
Yes, N3 is in the vets hospital, intubated, he has the thing, he is dying..
What? when? how?-- at a loss for words- she says your birdhouse is done he left it for you at the garage before leaving for the hospital.
He is a memory now.
Sorrow struck right into our hearts.
The noble soul, watched birds all day long, sheltered them, put out water, seeds, repaired the nests, birdcages for the neighborhood.
The shock when the procession of black cars drove by the boulevard made the reality sink in. We could not even see our dear friend.
The day lost its charm, nothing looked bright any more.

He stayed in the basement to avoid transmitting the virus to family, friends.
Depressed, we watched as the family drove over, no coffin, body bag or viewing, just a church memorial today to honor him.
Long live N3, you are the best, enjoy the birds, flowers, and watch over your friends who love you forever.



The deadly virus is still active, so be careful friends!

the raven cried croak

As usual, the two met by the pond at the outer edge of the housing complex.

The pair was unusual.
One, a Black lady with highly curled fizzy hair who had on purple lipstick, wore 5 inch heels, black, tight body hugging stretch suit trying to hold in a 320 lb mass of quivering flesh on a 6 ft frame holding a tiny dog on a colored leash.
The other a diminutive 120 lb, 4'9" Asian, clad in a salwar kurta and flowing cotton shawl in vibrant colors of spring, the quintessential David to the aforesaid Goliath.

They each walked around the pond at the same time, early morning at 6 am.
The first time they saw each other, David smiled while Goliath nodded as she has a smartphone clutched to her ear even as she tried to hold on to the leash and balance on the slim wedges she had on. Glancing at the sensible Converse shoes David wore, she smirked, unmindful of her shaking and heaving body parts as she wobbled on, towering over the other with a sense of pride at her getup.

So here we go, the undernourished, ill kempt, an immigrant Asian who is stealing jobs from Americans thought Goliath.
Another one who needs healing, deduced David as she perused her fellow walking partner, each walking away around the pond.
Now they were bound to meet twice as they circled the track in opposite directions, right? each with their own thoughts.

Fast forward to winter early 2020, the ambulance blared through the still of the night, as both phones lit up. Goliath, almost unconscious was being loaded onto the van, even as David switched off the phone, rushed out, buttoning up her body suit and putting on her N95 mask. The young doctor sized up her walking buddy, hoping she could save her, "I must see this through, even though my shift just ended, sleep can wait".

Three weeks later, having lost about 40 lbs, just taken off the ventilator G peered into the eyes of her savior- taken aback by the smiling eyes of her neighbor, D.
"Welcome back, you must keep up the spirit, we will meet again on the walking tracks". Hope soared as the meaning penetrated her fuzzy memory- oh the little Asian is the spirit who kept me alive?

A month later, she walked to the pond bench, hoping to see the tiny figure jogging around. Must be busy at the hospital, she must be overwhelmed by patients, must help, rambling, she decided to cook up some soup and bake her cakes and cookies.

Forgetting her lethargy, Goliath kept baking, making stew, soup, cooking, cleaning, making masks. Her energy soared as she was involved in helping the nurses, doctors and fellow neighbors. Packing platters into baskets, she sent fresh bread, soup and nutribars to every house on her walking track. Everyday she sent nourishing, homecooked meals to the wards, hoping her spirit would heal as she shed the lbs. Throwing away the branded shoes, large clothes, fancy props, a new sleek, slim, mature, down to earth woman emerged.

Every day at 6 am she waited diligently to thank her friend and well wisher, hoping she could apologize for her selfish thoughts.
My deliverance, my mentor, my friend- hope you are safe and keep healing  not only the body but also the soul- is the litany she repeats to keep herself from falling an weeping.
What goes around, comes around- this kept her from falling into depression- Ah, there she is, slim, smiling, the halo shimmered as she neared.
They waved, G pointed to the basket, and heart overflowing, walked on as D picked up the goodies and waved.

Time heals- friends forever.

the shine of liquid gold

Rippling, shining,
the color of tepid, teal, tea..

Memories of another day
made waves into the subconscious.

Life so smooth, soothed
into woven cocoons of
familial bonds.
Now lost forever.


Forge new ones
forget the past
Seek the future
How, why, when
No answers!

Sun low, hiding behind
narrow bands
of a clear tangerine sky.

Calm waters gather
reflections of lapping waters.

Memories of long ago
hazy yet distinct

feelings well up above despair
Hope triumphs over fear
where there is breath there is
new life starting afresh

                                 
                                 
                                  this too shall pass and a new era

of living with sentient beings
will be the way forward henceforth..

the working mind

Look into secrets of your subconscious mind. Grab a pen and a piece of paper, turn the logic off, turn the imagination on, start!

1. You’re peering into the sea. What do you feel?
2. You’re walking in the forest and looking down at the ground. What do you see? Now write down the feeling, just do it, no edits.
3. You watch seagulls flying above your head. How does this make you feel?
4. You’re looking at running horses. What emotions did you get?
5. You’re in the desert, and there’s a wall in front of you. You can’t see the end of it. There’s a little hole in the wall. You see an oasis through it. What are you going to do?
6. While wandering around the desert, you suddenly find a jug full of water. What are your actions?
7. You are lost in the forest in the night. Suddenly you find a house with lights on. Think of what you’re going to do.
8. You’re in the fog, and you can’t see anything. What’s the first thing you want to do?

What do your answers mean?

1. This is your attitude to life, your emotions, and wants.
2. This is the way you feel about your family.
3. Your attitude to women.
4. Your attitude to men.
5. This is your strategy for solving problems.
6. This is how you choose your sexual partner.
7. Your readiness for marriage and starting a family.
8. Your attitude to death.
   Life is for the living, have hope, faith and courage, help others, be selfless, cheerful and strong. We all have one life to live so do it well.

Nature's weave

She looked outside to pure wonder and joy- her efforts were not in vain, radiance was every where, the sight was uplifting and cheerful.
No longer feeling lost or alone, she decided to spread happiness the only way allowed legally.

On the society website she invited members to take a walk around her yard, one at a time, to see how Mother Nature showcases pure beauty in her special way.

A way to get over being bogged own by fear, scary predictions and fear mongering- seeing the beauty of flowers and growth inspires hope and a sense of anticipation, a feeling that this period will pass.

2020, the year the virus sweeps across the world, is tense and scary. But 2 months since the lockown was in place, the air was clear, the skies blue, the birds arrived in droves, spring had sprung-
eggs, chicks, twitter, buds..earth was waking up from its deep slumber, we must keep the faith.

But not the way we plunder and raid the resources.
Killing, maiming, plundering, pillaging for personal ego trips.
No more!

Bountiful and large hearted, humans must learn to appreciate, wonder and absorb color, weave, texture, aromas, watch how birds, bees, animals go about living.
No littering, pollution, killing, waste.

Efficient, quick, seasonal, harmony around, making the best of what is available is the key.
Children intiuitively show the way, they are pure, innocent, joyous.
Learn to live in harmony with our sentient beings as we enjoy Life.

until forever, colors mean the sky and flowers

The setting sun shone startlingly bright
between the trees this winter
even as late as 5 pm
on this day.

A solitary duck in drab brown sat still in the deepening darkness watching a late Autumn leaf float by.

Feeling restless and mellow, her stomach roiled. How would she face the coming days with nowhere to go, no job, car or money.

Soon the metro park would shut the entrance as they were open only till dusk that was setting in.
She was out of time and had do something.

The sound of a child crying startled her, she saw the hugely pregnant mother trying to put her fussy child into the stroller he clearly did not want in.
Reaching around, she held her hands out as she crooned a lullaby smiling at the distraught pair. The toddler eyed her and broke into a smile, shyly hiding behind the mothers huge belly.

"Can I be of any assistance please?" her eyes did the talking.
Both women seemed to sense the need of the other.

Call it providence or what have you, she accepted the silent plea.
The lonely white lady, Gia, held the black child to her bosom, still crooning and soon had him sleeping peacefully.

They sat on the wooden bench reaching across class, color, age barriers.
The black mother, Kia, had a weary look while the white lady, Gia, had a troubled one.

Sensing that small talk was passe, they each reached out, the white lady would care for the child in the black neighborhood trailer park mobile home till the baby's birth.
Hopefully that would happen within a week, by when her soldier fiance would be home from Afghanistan.

They bonded well, the autistic child, who at the age of three still needed help to function, now ably guided by the physically trained therapist.
She, being Asian, was refused permission to stay in the US as the new power in the capitol had issued sweeping action to round off immigrants, even legal post graduate degree holders from reputed colleges.

.

The black American, an unwed mother hardly out of her teens with a differently abled child and another one on the way, awaited her soldier boyfriend's return.

The positive legal permit to stay on came the same day the baby girl arrived, her twin did not see the light of day.

The father never made it home, the two females stayed together bringing up the children, their family complete.

Life goes on!

a pigment of imagination

It was fleet, needle shaped icicles pin pointing the wind chimes that swung wildly. Winds howled, rattling the shingles, the gutters trembled, the whispering willow gasped.
I looked forlornly at the empty streets around, the phone shrilled.
"Happy Mothers day", piped a tiny voice-
"Can I ask you to help some babies get borned?"

What, where, when, twins, whats happening..scared to venture out, I asked my 5 year old neighbor what she wanted me to do.
Come outside gmaa, the black cat is climbing the pole..see?



"Call your mama, you must not come over", my heart was breaking when saying this as I had taken care of her since she was born and she was upset why now coming over was a no-no.

The gale force winds had blown off the top of the nest.

The birdhouse had two eggs inside and now our worry was that her black cat should not get the tiny freshly laid treasures.
Tender hearted Isra, worried about the heavy rain, wind, cat circling as her tears moved me. I promised to fix it, if she watched through the window and did not come out.
My neighbor across the street, an aged war veteran agreed to do damage control. The ironing board needed new padding so I ripped it off and the video explains the next step.

"Thankyou grandmaa, you are the best, and grandpaa too"..the childs' relief was palpable.
Grandpa knocked on the door, N95 mask on, I invited him in.
We talked about the situation, he stayed for dinner- thus started a new chapter in our life.

Well, no idea what lies ahead, he is decent, single and interesting.
Life is meaningful again.
Happy mother's day 2020. Cheers!

what just happened?

It was the time in 2020 that followed the virus released the previous year. Corona virus had shut down the entire world. China showed the world that shelter in place worked so everyone stayed home, no going out as the virus was everywhere. Empty streets, no traffic, ghost town as seen here.


I stay alone in a 6 bedroom flat with a 4 car garage, a fully furnished basement, a hothouse and central heating. Plants kept me alive, as I am alone, the children lived and worked elsewhere. My only companion is a student who stayed in one of the rooms, helped with shopping, cooking, cleaning and keeping me engaged, sane during this period of extreme loneliness.

When the stores announced closure due to the lockdown, I asked her to get rice, spices, lentils to stock up till the lockdown was lifted. Handed her a $100 bill, the list was for what was available. She shopped for stuff, stored it and rationed it daily.
Working and studying from home, she had a positive outlook, cheerful always, her nose in a book to clear the tough medical exams to be taken soon.
A month later, today on May 8, I realized that shops must be open and we needed supplies. But the bins were stocked, grocery fresh, spice racks full, even juices (grape, lemon, cranberry), my chocolates (Lindt, Ghirardelli) in plenty.
Did she spend to buy all this? she did not earn any income, her scholarship paid the fees, she must have taken a loan and I was so upset...
"No" she said, "You did give me money, still have enough for this month".
Digging through the pile, she pulled out the bill, a grand total of $32. How, what, there was so much stuff in the pantry, I checked the bill again.
Rice- 20 lbs, lentils 4 lbs split peas,( chana, mung, masur, tur) all purpose flour, spices 6 varieties, all only 32?
ok, mystery solved.
The bill only took the single digit.
So rice cost 12.99 was billed 2.99.
Dals(lentils) were all 3.99 instead of 13.99.
That explained the bill.
Oh the billing machine was messed up, I called the store to explain.

The gentle softspoken owner explained it was his way of helping the loyal customers during the troubling times, students need help.
And teachers too, he said his 6 kids were helped by me and late spouse to graduate, the family is grateful, knowing no help would be taken willingly, he requested my silence so he could continue to be there for the community.

Speechless, I cried, wept, large tears.

The graduate student who selflessly keeps me going.
The community who just lifted up and quietly helped without fanfare.
Real heroes everyone, every time.
We will overcome this too. Stay safe, all of you.
Stay safe.

my ah haa moment..

It was almost two weeks into a forced closedown that during a visit to a farmers market I spied a huge cardboard of yellow, thick skinned lemons- they looked like oval oranges with a bright yellow hue.
At $5 for the whole box, I decided a month of lemon tea is worth the price so quickly added it to the cart.
Back home, I started making it and enjoyed the sweet tangy taste, every morning tea was followed by breakfast with lemon ginger drinks. A week later, we both felt less bloated, no aches or pain in joints, alert reflexes and our zest for life improved as depression seemed to dissipate.

The box of lemons spread a lovely aroma within the kitchen, the counter tops gleamed as I used the squeezed out lemons to scrub the sink, wipe out the tiles, polish copper bottomed pots and pans, even polish the door knobs and handles (an antiseptic to prevent any chance of the virus entering home).

One cold wintry day on a whim decided to make yellow pickle (as my kids called it), a simple salt, ginger, 16 slit, quartered green long peppers, roasted and powdered cumin, fenugreek added to 10 large lemons cut into quarters, then further into 16 diced bits. Tossed into it some mint and curry leaves, turmeric powder, a pinch of asafotedia, powdered peppercorns(10 ), the juices did the trick, the addition of 3 cups of vinegar helped break own the sharp tangy taste to create our very own bit of manna from heaven.

Oh, my saved pickle bottles were filled in, we decided to drop off one each to the homes of our 15 Asian friends and a few close neighbors in the 300 house complex, our way of spreading cheer and goodwill.

The requests for gooseberry pickle, tomato pickle, gonghura, bittergourd pickle started pouring in- we honoured them as a means to keep ourselves busy. As long as the basic ingredients were available, we enjoyed making and disturbuting it.

Our mailbox was soon full of envelopes from out grateful friends, some sent amazon gift cards, come cash, others sent books, pillow covers, embroidery floss, DIY kits, plants, the exchanges kept multiplying. Every day a new thankyou note with a return gift appeared, all we could do was wave and smile as the community began the new norm of staying connected again.

The motivation helped us take a big step, we filed a patent for our canned and pickled items that we marketed in our locality. Word of mouth spread and our community reachout collected orders for around 500 pieces, with repeat orders from the college community, the tiffin delivery service, even Asian grocery store wanted our brand as the fresh taste was relished by all who tasted it.

To say we enjoy the act of keeping connected by sending a simple encouraging note with every bottle we mail or that is collected from our porch is the truth.
Stay safe, keep the faith, there is always a silver lining to every act of Nature.
We just have to look for it and run with it.

swallows in april, swifts in May

stand on grass
watch the birds
threading the sky
infinite patience

swallows in april
swifts in may
two lilac trees so high
birds threading, weaving
Leaves waving, swaying..

nests sheltered in shadows
fledglings complaining of starvation
ever demanding more as
parents struggle back and forth
shuttles on a loom

under the lilac
the heavy morning air
weighs down on dark purple blooms
Tiny fragrant enticing perfumes
bees, wasps, gnats
Earthlings
all one
Love

Riches of Life

During the waning years of the Depression in a small southeastern Idaho community, I used to stop by Brother Miller's roadside stand for farm-fresh produce as the season made it available. Food and money were still extremely scarce and bartering was used extensively.

One particular day, Brother Miller was bagging some early potatoes for me. I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily apprising a basket of freshly picked green peas. I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes. Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Brother Miller and the ragged boy next to me.

"Hello, Barry, how are you today?"

"H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas -- sure look good."

"They are good, Barry. How's your Ma?"

"Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time."

"Good. Anything I can help you with?"

"No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas."

"Would you like to take some home?"

"No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with."

"Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?"

"All I got's my prize marble here."

"Is that right? Let me see it."

"Here 'tis. She's a dandy."

"I can see that. Hmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of go for red. Do you have a red one like this at home?"

"Not 'zackley but, almost."

"Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this way let me look at that red marble."

"Sure will. Thanks, Mr. Miller."

Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me. With a smile she said: "There are two other boys like him in our community, all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain with them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever. When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red after all and sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or an orange one, perhaps."

I left the stand, smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A short time later, I moved to Utah but I never forgot the story of this man, the boys and their bartering.

Several years went by, each more rapid than the previous one.

Just recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho community, and while I was there, I learned that Brother Miller had died. They were having his viewing that evening, and knowing my friends wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them. Upon our arrival at the mortuary, we fell into line to meet the relatives of the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could.

Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits, and white shirts...very professional looking.

They approached Mrs. Miller, standing smiling and composed, by her husband's casket. Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her, and moved on to the casket. Her misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each young man stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the casket. Each left the mortuary, awkwardly, wiping his eyes.

Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and mentioned the story she had told me about the marbles. Eyes glistening, she took my hand and led me to the casket. "Those three young men that just left were the boys I told you about. They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim "traded" them. Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size...they came to pay their debt.

"We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world," she confided,"but, right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in Idaho."

With loving gentleness, she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased husband. Resting underneath were three magnificently shiny red marbles.

Moral: We will not be remembered by our words, but by our kind deeds.

12,396 viewsJul 25, 2016, 10:59am

Why Are Robin Eggs Blue

Eggshell pigments and color patterns reveal a lot about where a bird nests and the sorts of evolutionary challenges it faces before it even hatches

Robin’s egg blue: eggs of the American robin (Turdus migratorius). Blue-green eggshell pigments protect the embryo from sunlight, which can be adaptive as long as light levels are low enough not to heat up the eggs. 

When I was reading ornithology, there were several questions that students would invariably ask at some point during the academic term. One was why are robin eggs blue?

Even Charles Darwin wondered about the evolutionary reasons that birds' eggshells range in color from white to dark greenish-blue. Since this is such a simple and obvious question to ponder, you'd think someone would have figured out the reason long ago. And indeed, there are a number of hypotheses that explain eggshell pigmentation -- the most widely accepted are either camouflage or protection from sunlight.

The camouflage provided by dull, mottled eggshells is, of course, the most important factor driving the evolution of eggshell colors and patterns-

But camouflage does not explain why other birds' eggs would have bright, plain colors, such as unspeckled white or intense blues and greenish-blues -- since these colors can make eggs easy to spot, especially when they are in an open-cup nest. Thus, plain, bright eggshell colors must necessarily result from different sorts of evolutionary pressures than does camouflage from hungry predators. The other widely accepted hypothesis is that plain unspeckled eggs might be the best compromise for surviving exposure to the Sun.

To clarify the interactions between eggshell pigments and sunlight

Their central questions focused on identifying whether eggshell pigmentation could help the egg maintain a balance between two opposing, and potentially damaging, effects of sunlight: the transmission of light (including UV) through white or light-colored eggshells and the rapid overheating of eggs with darker (greenish-blue) shells.

Because the village weaver bird, Ploceus cucullatus, produces eggs in a range of solid colors, from white to a medium greenish-blue, it was possible to make direct quantitative comparisons for a variety of eggshell colors produced by this species in a controlled light environment.

The researchers tested four components of the sunlight hypothesis:

1. damaging ultraviolet (UV) radiation can transmit through bird eggshells
2. infrared (IR) radiation at natural intensities can heat the interior of eggs
3. more intense egg coloration decreases light transmittance ("pigment as parasol")
4. more intense egg coloration increases absorbance of light by the eggshell and heats the egg interior ("dark car effect")

The researchers measured the three fates of visible light incident on a bird's egg, and compared these fates for a white egg to those for a greenish-blue egg, and found that eggshell color did affect reflectance (R; left column), absorbance (A; middle column), and transmittance (T; right column) of sunlight (figure 4):

Figure 4: Three fates of visible light incident on a bird eggshell, illustrating the influence of eggshell color. 

Additional experiments revealed that, just as the researchers predicted, the darker (greenish-blue) eggshells did do a better job protecting the egg's interior (where that precious embryo is developing) from light, including dangerous, DNA-damaging, UV radiation. But at the same time, the darker pigments also allowed the eggs to absorb more light and thus, caused them to heat up more quickly , while over heating can speed up embryonic development- and which then leads to a suite of other problems.

So basically, in environments with moderate light levels, like forest where American robins typically nest, birds' eggs will evolve towards being dark to protect the embryo from the Sun, whereas nests in brighter environments, such as open park lands, semi-arid and arid regions, the dangers of rapid over-heating favors white or lighter colored eggshells.

These findings are useful for predicting the sorts of environments that birds nest in, but can also explain why some birds species, like the village weaver bird, produce eggs with a variety of colors, from white to dark greenish-blue.

Source:

David C. Lahti and Daniel R. Ardia (2016). Shedding Light on Bird Egg Color: Pigment as Parasol and the Dark Car Effect, The American Naturalist 187(5):547-563 |

As a writer, my passion is to use words and images to capture the wonder and excitement of hot-off-the-presses research and share that with the public, so whats your comment, do write in..

Head held high, stay positive

I am in a new place in a new country almost 6 decades into my life.

Finding myself alone held no fear, having lived by my principles almost all my life. Married off early, I lived as a grass widow he stayed in the Gulf, coming home once in two years for a 3 week stay. The boys and I were a close knit family, we filled in the social spaces and held each other up.

Then came the Kuwait siege and he was home.

But never fit in, no position gave the pay he expected and friends, drinks, clubbing was the way to swap time.

But I paid off the loans, house, furniture, appliances, kids school fees, higher studies..

Then understood he had remortgaged the house, drawn money off the title deeds and siphoned off the money.

I left him.

Life went on, the boys graduated, moved out and started working at different locations.
My parents were always there to help me, my mother- a talented artist stood by us to quietly help when needed.

This needle work is an epitome of just how powerful women are, steadfast, hard working and quietly being there every moment to keep Life moving on.

This is what allows me to keep my head held high and go ahead, learn to live in this life as I marshal my experience and work in a new place- I know mother who is an angel now, looks proudly on with father who almost always smiles, knowing they had done right by their children and grand children.

Stay strong and stay smart.