Turtle

 

February 10, 2021

Earliest start yet in the forest. I had other plans at the outset, but the spirits led me toward Powhatan, so I went. Golden damp morning, the light low and slanted, turning the still waters to jewels and the moving waters to fire. I sat on the pier and watched three Canadas, the usual run of hooded mergansers, a kingfisher, and a big heron on the other side of the lake. The heron made his leisurely way across the shallows. The kingfisher seemed to seek the company of the geese, and perched in a branch above them whenever there was a branch above them. Maybe he counted on the geese to stir fish up. I sat in the sunlight watching through my binocs (at one time the heron and the geese and the kingfisher were all in the lens at once) thinking how perfectly happy I was. A big black mud turtle had come out to sun himself. A family passed by, with one son– 6 or 7– lagging behind. I took a calculated risk and spoke to him, and showed him the turtle. He seemed afraid of me at first, but I kept my distance and he was assured enough finally to see the turtle. I wondered how that moment will attach to his memory, for I feel that it shall. Blue, shining, beautiful day. Took one bit of road I had never taken before, which led to a place I had been before, approached from another side. Frogs called in places too difficult to get to. They’re safe from herons, because herons dislike overhanging branches. I stopped on the way home to buy goldfish for the pond. Unless they were well hidden, my shoal of minnows seems to have been all but annihilated.