No taste like home

Standing on the high point of our property as the wind from a distant storm gives huge relief from the stifling humidity, just looking around I notice a box turtle fifteen feet away doing the same thing: stretching its neck all around, sampling the air.

I made a video haibun out of a similar sighting two years ago, of a box turtle on the other ridge appearing to enjoy the first rain after a long drought. These ridgetop turtles have to drink water when they can get it, so a summer storm or even the suggestion of one would be welcome, I’m sure, especially now that the seasonal pools have mostly dried up. (There had been one a couple hundred yards away from today’s turtle.)

When I approach the turtle for a picture it begins retreating into its gorgeous orange shell. How can one look so flashy and be so shy?

Rumbles of thunder. Lacking a shell to tuck myself into, I suppose I should begin heading for home.

***

Sitting on the veranda of my mom’s house just before supper, I saw a silver-spotted skipper land next to an old spot of white paint on the concrete and taste it with its proboscis. It flew over to another spot of paint and did the same thing, circled around and found one more paint spot to taste before careening off.

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