There was a time that Marash Girl and Marash Boy were living on the shores of the Connecticut River, in Smith's Ferry, a stone's throw from Northampton. It was then that they decided to color Easter Eggs with as many natural herbs as they could find. Driving up to Thorne's Market, they found a selection of herbs of varying hues, boiled them individually to get color, and then simmered the white eggs until hardboiled in the individually herb colored waters. Such an array of subtle colors, a far cry from the bright, artificially colored eggs popular in contemporary times, a reminder of the importance of subtlety in a world that veers more and more to the black and white, the red and green, as it were. But also a long distance from the Armenian custom of coloring eggs with onion skins, the eggs becoming the color of dried blood, a stark reminder of the true meaning of Good Friday, and the miracle of Easter.