I was standing looking up at the blue dome of the morning sky above the oak trees, pondering questions of life and death, when I had the fleeting image of a baby bird pecking out of its eggshell. This came after I'd been mulling over the theories of what our life on earth is. A divinely designed testing ground for future reward or punishment? A semester in a cosmic educational system? A prison? A chemical accident? A beautifully landscaped hell? A scientific experiment whose instigators observe us in the way that human scientists observe a bacterial culture in a petri dish?
To me, the little bird breaking out of its shell and seeing the sky and sunshine for the first time was an analogy of what happens at the end of this life on earth, and a hint at our earth life's function.
