the pond

It was a busy day at the pond.

A robin entertained me for several minutes by flying back and forth from the tree in front of me to the pond on my right. And when I say back and forth, I mean back and forth. As in over and over again.

It would fly a foot or two off the ground in a straight line to the pond. Then, a minute or two later, it would return the same way it came. Only now it would have a piece of grass or a twig in its beak.

Yep. It’s nest-building time.

Getting dizzy from all the back and forth, I walked over to the pond where I spotted a huge snapping turtle. Being the big kid that I am, I picked up a small branch and reached out and tapped it on the shell a few times.

I now had its full attention.

The snapper prepared to defend itself by raising its tail and backside in the air and crouching down in the front, its jaws preparing to snip my fingers off if I get too close.

Knowing that it would snap if provoked again, I gently waved the branch in front of it and, sure enough, the turtle lurched forward with its mouth wide open. An air ball all the way.

I knew it was coming—I mean, I knew it was coming, but I still nearly jumped out of my tennies. This guy meant business.

Now a little shaken up, I decided to back away and leave it alone. As I turned around to make my escape, a squirrel stood on its hind legs next to a tree.

Staring at me. I stared back.

We didn’t have to speak—I knew what the squirrel was thinking: “What kind of idiot are you, messing around with a snapping turtle?!”

Being the gentleman that I am, I decided not to respond and merely kept on walking.

Meanwhile, the robin diligently continued its construction project, the snapper stewed quietly as it returned to the safety of the pond, and the squirrel shook its head in disbelief at the dumb human.

That would be me.