Perhaps because of the late summer heat, the herons are scarcely seen, and the cormorants seem to have left early, but a snowy egret comes and fills the gap.
When the water level was higher, the turtles basked up here, but now see the log is hollow and out of curiosity, I peek inside to find a surprise.
As soon as it sees me, it turns its back, the better to escape on the last bit of rocky edge before the water. Then it relaxes bit, though still keeping a wary eye on me.
The next day I find it swimming on the other side of the lake. Maybe with its high shell, it gets all the sun it needs that way.
At first, it looks like a rock, but it’s a moving rock. I am watching with some others and, as always, when it senses us, it moves away. But then it doubles back and comes right to us to stare us down.
This turtle must be a great-great-great-great-great-great…-grand ancestor of all the typical and tiny ones I see every day.
Here, it is crawling out of the mud and muck where it stays when not feeding. I’ve never seen it take in the sun.
Its shell is about the size of a soccer ball and its head is as big as my fist.