Feral Friday: my version of the more common “Wordless Wednesday” post in which a thought is illustrated with an image rather than words. (There will be some words, though; I just can’t help myself!)
Somewhere along Hominy Creek, you can see this big rock sticking up out of the water.
When my parents moved from West Asheville to Candler in August, 1971, I was 2-and-a-half. (Don’t bother with the math–it was 40 years ago and yes, now you know my age, too.) There were no car seats for kids in those days, and virtually no seat belts, and we mostly sat in our mom’s laps and leaned out the windows (and mostly all survived, thank goodness).
When we passed this stretch of the creek, my mom told me to look for “that big old turtle rock” that looked like a giant tortoise lumbering upstream. (It already had moss on it then, but the grass and weeds are a fairly new development in the last 15 or so years.) (The rusty oil drum hung up in the rocks nearby is an even newer development, unfortunately.)
When the creek floods, the turtle will be submerged for a few days, but he always comes back, headed upstream against the current. No matter where I go, or for how long, I check on the turtle when I come home.
Thanks, Mom, for having imagination enough to make the world a more interesting place for all of us!