Quail Eggs and Spoons.
Oil pastel on paper, texted sintra
19.5” x 27.5”
Aug. 17, 2006
Quail eggs are special. They’re small and precious, spotted to camouflage them from marauders. Though they are offered to us as a grocery item, I think that they are too special to eat.
When I was young, we would go to our farm in the country every weekend. I would play with my friend Carol whose mother had come from England after the war, bringing a special cabinet with her. It had about a dozen small drawers which, when opened, revealed compartmentalized trays. Each compartment was carefully lined with cotton wool as a nest for one or more wild bird eggs. The cabinet was her bird egg collection. I loved to open each drawer and marvel at the eggs — big duckeggs to tiny sparrow eggs. They were each marvellous and magical.