My husband was out mowing the lawn the other day and found a robin's egg laying in the grass. The egg was empty, most likely plundered by another bird. He stopped the mower, washed all of the smutch from the delicate, hollow shell and presented it to me like a gift. I am not the kind of girl who likes the grand gesture, no elaborate dates or show of diamonds for me; the things that capture my heart are much simpler. After nearly forty years of marriage, the color of our love is robin's egg blue.