Encounters

Once-upon-a-time, many decades ago, I was a barefooted, sun-stroked urchin soaking up endless lakeside hours. My life was solitary at our summer lake cottage, without other children nearby, so I relished special relationships with turtles - wild creatures I could catch and hold (unlike squirrels, birds, or fish).  They became my companions, playmates, and ever-so-safe confidants.

Recently I've enjoyed two endearing turtle encounters that took me back to that sweet time of my life.

Several days ago when looking out over our lake from the house, I noticed a round shape lodged on the tire hanging from a post on the pier.  I thought perhaps waves had washed up something that had gotten stuck there.

However, upon advancing to investigate, I discovered a large map turtle had chosen the spot for September sunbathing!  Approaching cautiously, I was sure my footsteps on the pier would frighten him - but he didn't move. Instead, he waited for me to stand directly over him, and then eyed me with a welcoming look that suggested I belonged there as much as he did. I verbally conversed with him as I would have done with an old friend, and he still didn't budge.  We connected that way, the wild, undomesticated reptile and the conversational human, for almost a minute.  Then he slipped into the water and was gone.

The following evening another smaller turtle scuttled into the middle of the road on the other side of our house.  He was about ten yards ahead of me, and in a hurry.  Upon my approach, he withdrew into his shell in typical self-protection, but I reached down and lifted him to eye level - a beautiful painted turtle.  When I offered an audible greeting, he stuck his head out slightly and turned it to look me in the eye, as if unafraid and trusting my intentions.  We stood together in the evening sunlight, assessing each other and conversing (well, he only listened, but that's still an important part of communication).  Then I released him in the grass on the other side of the road, where he was safe to continue on his way.

I'm not sure if these encounters are meaningful to anyone but me, and yet I want to say this: they take me back to an important time when I expected ordinary things to be special, and maybe even spectacular.  This was when innocence and trust linked me with even the most modest of creatures and experiences to mysteriously support my own immature growth. In some undeveloped way, I realized I existed as part of a larger, integrated whole - and thanks to always-available turtles, life was good in the midst of hurts and disappointments as well as the best of times, simply because they listened well to whatever mattered to me.