The other morning I walked with Pumpy on our usual route at "the cliffs" -- a pine needle path meandering along a steep embankment above a beaver pond and marsh. We made our way down to the beaver pond, as usual, and as I stood there I was suddenly arrested by a small movement on the surface of the water. It was possibly just a small piece of wood, bobbing like a cork, or else it was an old friend, coming up for air.
I asked "Is that you?" and in reply, the bobbing cork disappeared, leaving a widening ring of concentric circles, rippling beyond.
I was so happy to know that the turtles have awakened from wherever they slumbered this winter.
Comments