As I sat on the slate trail in the garden this evening, I felt myself being blinked at. Someone was watching me. Looking around I found the little fellow in these photographs a few inches from my leg, dusty and holding very still, and blinking tiny black eyes. Just to be absurd, let's call him Picasso the Painted Turtle (naming the visitors to our yard is a tradition with me and my children.) Haiku carried him down to the edge of the pond where he can wash the dust from his shell.
Seven year old Sijo took the photo of the turtle in Haiku's hand. It is a bit blurry, but gives you a good idea of the size of this tiny turtle.
photos 1) by Haiku, baby painted turtle crawling up from the creek bank into the butterfly garden 2) by Sijo, turtle in Haiku's hand