The blue robin’s shell lay shattered in the moss. Maria picked up a piece: smooth, cool to the touch; and felt a shock of aliveness. Such a small thing, once breathing, now gone. The breeze on her face held her in the present, yet its chill carried a dim fear of her own ending. Caught in a mix of doom and gladness, she closed her eyes. "You are beautiful," she whispered to the fragment, "because you are broken."


