Letter to my Son
Sunday, 14 July
 |
| Eastern Box Turtle |
Good
Morning Justin…
Early
Thursday morning, around seven, I ran across a turtle. It would have escaped my attention as it moved
quietly in the bushes near the house but the yellow markings on its shell
caught my eye. It’s an Eastern Box
Turtle. The shell of this one appears to
be about five inches long. I think I've found Elvira because the turtle’s eyes are brown. Elroy would likely have orange or red eyes. There are other characteristics you can use
to determine whether the turtle qualifies for the Ladies Room or not but they
seemed indeterminate to me. For
instance, the plastron, or underside of the male turtle is supposed to be
somewhat concave while the female’s is flat.
I thought Elvira’s plastron a bit indented but it’s not obvious. Also the female’s shell is more domed than
the male. This turtle’s shell just didn't look as domed as the female pictured on line.
Only the eye color appeared clear cut to me. It’s not a one hundred percent indicator but,
since I have no experience sexing turtles, I went with it and gave Elvira the
key to the Powder Room. One more thing –
I think her tail should have been broader and flatter if she were a boy.
Elvira
now lives in a wilder habitat, away from homes and roads. There are just too many cars and lawnmowers
around here to give her much chance of surviving long. In the wild she can live a hundred
years. Did you get a look at her
legs? They’re stumpy and they stick out
her sides. If you want nimble cornering
and speed this just isn't the way to go.
Try placing a long stick between
your knees. Now time yourself running
the fifty yard dash. Send me a post card
when you get there. Of course, if you’re
a turtle eating plants and crawling insects you’re not in any rush. Things can get pretty exciting, though, if a
fox with a taste for turtle takes an interest in you. Your shell is your suit of armor. Make as small as you can and tuck yourself
inside. Make sure nothing soft sticks
out. The fox will probably paw at you
and sniff about. Pray he can’t roll you
over on your back. This could go on
quite a while if the fox has nothing better to do. He may not even be all that hungry. You’re just an interesting diversion on an
otherwise sleepy afternoon. Oh, great. He’s trying to gnaw on you. So long as this continues you won’t be able
to properly digest your breakfast. All
this stress is giving you indigestion. Now
would be the perfect time to give off a powerful stench of heroic scale. You’d think you’d have been issued such a
weapon for defense in situations like this.
What an oversight.
If
I’m the turtle I feel blessed because I’m too dull-witted to fully appreciate
the predicament I’m in. I’m not
imagining all the terrible things that might happen to me. I’m not crying out, “Why me, Lord?” I’m just alone with myself, cooped up tight inside
my own shell, pondering very slowly the efforts of the big bad wolf futilely
blowing on my house of bricks. I’m
trying to sort things out. Am I afraid
or am I just annoyed? It’s hard to
say. I can’t seem to hold onto any
single train of thought long enough to decide how I feel. It’s like trying to focus on the music in a
supermarket. It so easily slips out of
consciousness.
The
commotion outside has stopped. When did
this happen? I must have been thinking
about crickets. I like the ones missing
a leg best. A plump leaf moist with dew
sounds tasty right now. Is it berry
season, yet? It feels stuffy. Isn’t there something I’m supposed to be
thinking about? I’m all sealed up tight
inside because… because… oh. Yeah. I should slowly take a peek around.
After
living one hundred years one half inch off the ground what conclusions are
there for a turtle to make? It feels
good lying in shallow puddles following breakfast. Plants are easier to catch than insects. Elroy bumping into Elvira is a truly rare
chance meeting.
Love,
Dad
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