The little egg seems so out of place, balancing precariously on a grey day with the whole world flowing around it and the sea threatening to overtake it. Every day of our lives is a balancing act, beginning and ending with the breath. We breathe in, we breathe out. We take in the world, we expel it. I've always wondered if, when I was exhaling, something else was inhaling me. That is, if I inhale the energy the Earth has to offer me, upon my exhale, does the Earth inhale me? Is all of life just a push and pull, a give and take, an ebb and flow, the day and then the night? It seems to me that it is and that knowing your opposite is the key to balance. It seems to me that everything around me is telling me so, that everything stands in a perfect balance. Everywhere I look, this principle demonstrates itself to me, the little egg who balances, for now, on this lonely island.