It came from the creek-- wet and mossy -- and marched with purpose to the curb, where it paused, teetering like a tiny army helmet, before launching itself into the void. The turtle tucked and was safely inside when its shell hit the asphalt with a sickening thump. Without missing a beat, the tiny terapin emerged and strutted across the road with a confidence that could only come from an ignorance of cars or unleashed dogs. I took pictures, and then hung back from the others, who waited ahead in the shade, until the turtle was out of danger. This was the West Orange Trail, the same trail where I had previously photographed the alligator. Today, however, there were no alligators -- no otters either, although I've seen those and wild turkeys at other locations around Orlando. Today, just turtles, tortoises, a dead armadillo, a black racer, three roosters, and a six-foot red rat snake. Another day, another close encounter of the cool kind.
The good stuff:
cardinal at my window
cupcakes
orange blossoms
bungee cords
available domain names
bamboo
otters
banyan trees
The Everglades
