While I was building one of the raised beds, a truck stopped down on the road and some young boys got out. I could hear them talking but didn't know what the deal was, so I hiked on down to the road to see. I inadvertently scared the tar out of them. I guess you don't always expect to see a dirty, bearded hillbilly rise up out of the brush. I have a habit of keeping trees and scrub between me and whom I'm approaching. Old habits die hard.
They'd found a big box turtle crossing the road and were looking at it. The weather has warmed up here enough for them to go moving about, I suppose (the turtles, not the teenage boys). I explained to them the best way to cook turtle and one of them expressed disgust. He said he prefers steak. I asked, "Do you find a lot of free steak sitting on the side of the road?"
I asked if they wanted the turtle and they insisted they did not. I promised I wouldn't eat this one and then disappeared back into the scrub as they drove away. I tried real hard to be friendly and harmless, but I suspect those are three boys who won't be back down this backroad. A pity. More boys should learn about nature.
I took the turtle back and showed it to my own children before setting him loose in the post oak woods. It's been an hour and he's still sitting over there not moving and with his head in the shell. I guess there are old turtles, and bold turtles, but no old, bold turtles. Judging by his size, I suspect he's older than I am and was probably thinking in regards to his manhandling, "not again".