This Week's Adventure

Two weeks ago, Sam and I went on one of our walks around the College. Our usual routine is that we:
   1.) Drive slowly down the College entrance, looking for rabbits as we go.
   2.) Park the car.
   3.) Walk over to the duck-less pond, which I invariably comment on, while Sam pretends to listen.
   4.) Walk over to the bench on the south side of the duck-less pond, where Sam slowly walks around it, brushing his foot through the grass as he looks for spare change, while I head over to the bench on the east side and wait for him.
   5.) Wait as Sam joins me at the bench on the east side, where he finds a little bit of change.
   And then, finally...
   6.) We go on our walk.

There are several more steps after this, but they don’t relate to this story. Plus, they all involve me complaining about how steep the hill is and how out of breath I am. (Sometimes I toss in a few comments about how much I’m sweating - just to keep it interesting.)

Anyway, the pre-walk routine stays pretty much the same, every time we go.

If the ducks were still there (which they’re not,) you could insert “feed the ducks” between steps three and four. But since the ducks have gone, the most we do beyond these steps, is look for turtles.

Usually, we spot one or two turtles hidden in the pond. When it gets to be later in the year, we will often spot several of them sunning themselves together on the east bank. We've decided, though we don't know for sure, that this is all one big family. We have nothing to base this on, other than the fact that we like this idea, and that they all share a remarkable family resemblance.

Two visits ago, on our approach to the pond, we spotted what looked like a turtle over by the east side bench. We walked over (after stopping at the south bench to look for change) and sure enough, there was a turtle, scratching away at the dirt. We watched for a while as the turtle dug a decent sized hole, then we resumed our routine.

After rounding the College, on our way back to the car, we looked over past the pond, and the turtle was gone.

On our last visit, at the beginning of the week, we parked and looked over towards the bench, and the turtle was back. I went over to get a closer look while Sam checked for change around the south bench.

I’m not sure if this was the same turtle as the one before, but regardless, she (now clearly a “she”) had just finished digging a new hole, and was now in the process of laying eggs. I waved Sam over and we watched as she shuddered, laid an egg, gently pushed it deeper into the hole with her hind leg, and then worked on pushing out the next egg. We watched as she did this over and over again, for a total of seven eggs. (I like to think that the turtle was grateful that Sam and I had happened by so we could watch her and take pictures.)

One of the things about this college is that they are religious about keeping their grounds mowed (the word, “fanatics” comes to mind.) While this makes for some lovely looking, well-manicured fields, this has had a negative impact on our rabbet spotting pleasure. Standing there, watching as this turtle was now covering up her freshly laid eggs, it occurred to me that these lawnmowers may also have a negative impact on this turtle, as well as her potential family.

I asked Sam to stay with the turtle while I went into the building and tried and find someone I could flag this to. Since this was after dinner, the place was nearly empty. I walked the halls without finding anyone, so I left, and on the way back to the pond, I swung by the car and I grabbed a tape measure.

Back with Sam (and the grateful turtle) I measured off of the back leg of the bench to the hole, came back a foot, and poked a stick in the ground.

That was the best I could do for now.

Sam and I continued on our walk, this time with something new to talk about, other than the usual subject matter.

The next morning, I called the College and I got their their automated directory. I listened as the recording told me what number to press to get connected to places such as, the Administration Office, the Library, even to a Directory of Professors. Inexplicably, it offered no option for reporting pond related issues (so much for flagging the No Ducks situation.) Eventually, an operator picked up and I explained why I was calling. Amazingly, not only did she not laugh or hang up on me, she actually connected me to the Head Groundskeeper.

The Head Groundskeeper picked up right away, and not only did he also not laugh or hang up on me, he asked me where these eggs were buried. I explained to him which bench to go to, where to stand in relation to the bench, where and how far to measure off of the bench to where he should find a stick poking out of the ground, and how, once he saw the stick, to draw a twenty inch radius. The now buried eggs would be within that area.

I was relieved that this guy seemed to be, not only interested, but also on the ball. Not only was he following my detailed directions, but, presumably since he works at a college, he was understanding my technical terms, such as “radius” and “stick”.

He took down the information, said he knew right where I was talking about, and that he would instruct his crew to “keep a wide berth when we mow in that area for the next few weeks.” (Using terms like, “wide berth” is another reason I knew I was dealing with a professional.)

Since I wasn’t laughed at, I left him my name and phone number, “in case he had any questions” - though really, beyond him asking me what I meant by “radius” or “stick,” there wasn’t anything left to ask.

Sam and I haven’t been back to the College since this adventure. Maybe we’ll make it back there this weekend, but if I can slip away by myself, which is unlikely, I may try to swing by alone - just to make sure we won’t be met with some unforeseen disaster.

I don’t know what predators dig up and eat turtle eggs and I really don’t want to find out. At least, not when I’m standing there with Sam. Plus, if I’m able to go back there a little early, maybe I can check around the benches - just to see if there’s any loose change.