what's your turtle

After a botched trip to Toys R Us wherein we found out that not every toy found online is actually carried in the store {and before we could figure out what to do about that} I took the kids to the Audubon Society where we checked out the birds and then headed down to take a hike on the trails. For Eva this meant possible encounters with the resident newts. For Samuel this meant extreme irritation culminating in definite groundedness {which he had hoped to find during said trip to Toys R Us but which obviously alluded all if not most of us}. Mostly. Still, it's better when I listen and listen and listen without offering very much in the way of advice or fixing-it solutions (which will surely lead to even more frustration and less groundedness, whatever my intentions are pretending to be). I will say that I thought we left the Audubon Society in better spirits than when we arrived but Samuel might disagree with me on that point.

What I loved most about this trip- aside from the fact that we got to try out a new trail and walk deeper into the woods than we had before- was when we approached the newt pond, a boy about Samuel's age called out to us to tell us there was a turtle in the pond. I heard, "There's a turtle!" announced with such certainty and enthusiasm that I was hooked. The kids and I walked over to where he stood with his mom quietly- but enthusiastically!- watching the turtle. I didn't see the turtle at first and asked if he had been the one to mention the turtle. He said yes and pointed him out to us. He also told us there had been a mouse standing right there by his foot near the bank of the pond but that the mouse had left. Thankfully, the turtle had not and we- all of us- stood looking at the turtle with his head and shell poking out of the water. And then the turtle began to swim! across the pond. This was startling enough to catch the attention of the other person there, an Audubon volunteer who was wading through the pond searching for newts. She voiced what I think all of us were thinking- wouldn't it be fun to catch! the turtle? Unfortunately (for us, not the turtle), she also let us know she was there for the newts, not the turtle, and was committed enough to her cause to not allow herself to be distracted. The rest of us sighed {quietly} as she resumed searching the pond for newts. She was, after all, the only one of us who was really authorized to "catch the turtle" and without her we were left to continue to watch the turtle as he swam a little further out into the pond, away from us. Once he reached the tall reeds and we could no longer see him, we headed back into the woods to continue our walk.

I tell you, this is just the sort of thing that is sure to get me out of bed in the morning- the idea of seeing a turtle- or a tree frog- in the woods with my kids. I love that a stranger called out to us to let us know of this extraordinary event. I loved the thrill of it in his eyes. His enthusiasm. His mother patiently standing with him while he watched that turtle {even as it was apparent that seeing the turtle wasn't monumental for her, per se, she saw that it was for him and that was monumental for her}. She was there. I was there. We were all there. With the turtle. And you could feel it. At least I could. And I hope that even if my kids didn't, that they will remember it. Recognize it. Link it to what they love so that they will have a web of- what? A web of so many experiences and memories and knowledge of passion and enthusiasm and love in this life to return to over and over again. Enough knowledge of it all to know for certain what thrill-ing-ness gets them to jump out of bed each and every day in anticipation and delight.