The Turtle

This was a journal entry I wrote today but I decided to also make it my entry for my writer's group exercise tonight, in which we had to work in the words "Pop" and "Filter." I didn't get to go to writer's group due to a freelance assignment that came up at the last minute, so I figured I'd share it here. Enjoy!

Today I decided to take advantage of my week off work by heading to the park for some reading by the creek.

I staked out a spot on a bench by the water and sat down with my book, letting the sun soak in and the babbling of the creek provide a peaceful soundtrack. I opened a bottle of pop, took a sip and flipped open the pages, letting myself get caught up in the narrative.

About five minutes in, just as the outside world was fading away and I was lost in the story, I heard a frantic "Hey! Hey you!" from across the creek.

I glanced up and saw a man in his 40s excitedly waving at me. I scanned the creek bank, hoping he wasn't talking to me. He was. I sighed, closed my book and got up from the bench, walking over to the water's edge.

"What's up?" I asked, trying to conceal my irritation.

"Turtle! look at the huge turtle! You have to see it!"

Seriously? This stranger had called me away from my book to look at a turtle? I sighed and looked at the water; didn't see anything.

"Uh, yeah...nice," I said, hoping to close the matter.

"No," he said, pointing upstream. "You're not looking in the right place! You have to see this!"

I sighed again and followed his finger. The bubbling of the water and the glare of the sunlight made it difficult to see anything in the creek.

"Sorry man, I don't..."

I stopped. There it was, a bright green shell under water, the size of a large rock, moving slowly but steadily downstream.

"Oh!" I said, surprised by the excitement in my voice. "There is is! It's moving!"

The two of us stood on our respective creek sides for a good five minutes, watching the turtle make its way down Paint Creek. After awhile I went back to the bench and picked up my book, but he stayed. I peeked over the top of the pages as this man pulled hikers from the trail to look into the water and they excitedly pointed and watched the turtle on his journey. A fly fisher upstream heard the fuss and wandered over, wanting to know what all the excitement was about. It was as if this man was a public relations manager for nature, pulling people out of their routines to stop and take a look at the beauty and wonder of the natural world, something more meaningful and profound than could be heard on our ipods or written in a novel.

As I write this, I'm sitting at a picnic table not far from that bench and I'm reminded of ow many similar experiences I've had recently, reminders that life is not about myself, my work and my life, but about bigger stories and passions. This weekend, another amphibian--Kermit the Frog--pulled my mind off my worries about work and career by reminding me that someday the lovers, the dreamers and me will find the Rainbow Connection. Later that weekend, as rain threatened to ruin a trip to an amusement park and I panicked about turning 30, the innocent and pure laughter of my 1-year-old niece and nephew reminded me that life, at its core, is magic, not drudgery or pain.

I need these experiences. They act as a filter for my life taking my selfishness, anger and pride and replacing them with the reminder that life is a wondrous, mysterious and beautiful miracle, woven by a good, just and glorious Storyteller, who has placed me at my job, at this age...and, at the right times, in close proximity to turtles.

-C