Vacation days ahead, and still so much work to be done. So I spent Friday on my laptop at home, determined to focus and complete (tasks that are a struggle for me).
I kept my head down through the morning. By 1:00 I was hungry and wandered into the kitchen for a quick bite.
I couldn’t help but glance out the window and sure enough, there they were again, the turtles, sunning and funning like nobody’s business.
I’d like to get a better photo, I thought. But those turtles are so jumpy. What if I crept quietly across the porch, down the steps, and hid behind the spirea for a shot?
And creep I did. Until my little friend Hampton, home on this off-day from school, spotted me (camera in hand) and dragged his boat to our perfect-for-launching-a-kayak yard.
About that time I heard Hampton’s sister, Macy, yell rather excitedly: There’s a turtle in the pool!
Needless to say I left Hampton to his own devices, and—motivated by the possibility of some turtle drama—traversed the very prickly just-laid pine straw in my bare feet.
I reached the water’s edge and looked in. There, swimming around on the bottom, a turtle. But instead of the gigantic, brown (let’s face it: not so cute) coot-ish variety I expected, this was a sweet, colorful, tiny little creature.
With a long-handled net, Macy went about the business of rescuing the little guy,
and before you could say chlorine demise that baby was safely in her palm.
After a bit of consideration for keeping this turtle as a pet—remember, there are HUNDREDS of them in our lake—Macy and I agreed that the right course of action was to release this guy safely into his natural habitat. Still, he was so little. And think of the epic journey he’d already taken to make his way from the lake to the pool in the first place.
The little pond! we both thought, at just about the same time. The little pond we created, right in the middle of our back yard. Perfect.
So out the door we went, little turtle in hand, ready for its liberation.
Turtle rescue complete, I turned my attention back to the big pond and Hampton, who was happily paddling away.
(Pine straw splinters excepted), it was the perfect lunchtime break on a busy—but perfectly wonderful—Spring Friday.
30 Days of Grace II