I was with a group of painters on the old Wunderlich estate that had just been donated to the County Park System. The original home was a modest Victorian building and a caretaker for the property lived above this garage. As we painted, we expressed absurd theories about the egg that was precariously perched on that second floor window sill. It seemed unlikely that a brave hen had deposited it in such a difficult spot.
While we painted, the caretaker had entered the garage door several times to get tools, but evidently he or someone else had reached out the window and grabbed the egg when we weren't looking for it suddenly disappeared, and it wasn't laying in a mess on the ground below. He probably overheard our comments.