Throwing eggshells into a fire will stop hens laying or bring a storm at sea

Setting: A small backyard in regional Victoria. A firepit crackles as two friends, Mia (superstitious) and Ethan (rational thinker), relax after a weekend barbecue.

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Mia:
Careful with those eggshells, Ethan! Don’t throw them near the fire. You’ll stop the hens from laying… or worse, bring a storm out at sea.

Ethan:
A storm at sea? Mia, we’re in Victoria. The closest sea action we get is a seagull stealing chips in Geelong.

Mia:
I’m serious! My nan always warned us. “Eggshells in the fire anger the spirits of the sea,” she’d say. And our hens did stop laying for a whole week after my cousin tossed some into the bonfire.

Ethan:
Maybe they were just moulting? Or stressed? Or maybe fed up with your cousin. Chickens don’t exactly run on supernatural rules.

Mia:
Explain the storm then! The very next day, huge winds and rain. Coincidence? I don’t think so.

Ethan:
You do know storms in Australia don’t need excuses, right? They just—arrive. Like magpies in spring.

Mia:
Still, I’m not taking chances. I rely on those eggs!

Ethan:
Okay, but think about it. If tossing eggshells into a fire could really mess with the weather, the Bureau of Meteorology would be out of business. They’d just hire a guy with a campfire and a carton of Coles eggs.

Mia:
Laughs Honestly, that sounds more accurate than some of their forecasts.

Ethan:
Fair point. But seriously—things like laying cycles depend on daylight, temperature, stress, diet… not backyard witchcraft.

Mia:
Then how come all the folks in my hometown believed this? Even old Harold the fisherman used to tell kids not to put shells in the fire or “the sea will thrash like a cranky crocodile.”

Ethan:
Because superstition spreads like gossip. One weird event happens, someone blames the nearest egg, and boom—new tradition. Humans love patterns, even when there aren’t any.

Mia:
So you’re saying my nan was wrong?

Ethan:
Not wrong—just relying on the best explanation she had at the time. People didn’t have Google, or weather satellites, or chickens with stress charts.

Mia:
But you can’t deny it feels real. I grew up hearing it so often that even now my stomach flips if someone does it.

Ethan:
That’s the power of stories. Doesn’t mean they’re bad—just not scientific. Look, remember when you swore that carrying a potato in your pocket kept ghosts away?

Mia:
It did keep them away. You didn’t see any ghosts, did you?

Ethan:
Mia… I’m not convinced your potato was the deciding factor.

Mia:
Alright, alright. Maybe it’s a bit silly. But I still don’t like risking storms or eggless mornings.

Ethan:
Tell you what—let’s make a deal. Next time we have a fire, I’ll toss one eggshell in and we’ll observe what happens. Scientific method. If the hens stop laying, I’ll apologise and buy you a dozen free-range replacements.

Mia:
And if nothing happens?

Ethan:
Then you admit eggshells don’t summon Poseidon.

Mia:
Fine. But if a storm hits, I’m calling you first.

Ethan:
Perfect. I’ll answer—unless the gale-force winds blow my phone into the ocean.

Mia:
See? Even you know not to mess with eggshell magic.

Ethan:
Laughing Or maybe I just know not to mess with you.