The teenage girls are hunting for eggs in my parents' yard. They pick through the splendidly overgrown vegetation, snatching at bright colors, and calling out to one another whenever they find one. But they are in a difficult position: their age demands a certain jaded attitude towards all things, so they can't seem too excited, especially over something as childish as hunting for Ostara eggs. One of the girls picks up a bright red egg that had been hidden inside of a bucket containing a … [Read more...]