Out and about by the lake taking time to watch turtles basking on logs, all life awash in water & sunlight.
Turtles nest in the hardest places, gravel driveways, railroad tracks, quarry pits, yet they persist, pickmatic claws excavating space for a clutch of eggs.
Turtles are products of their environment, ancient cold-blooded reptiles that behaviorally regulate their body temp, Nature’s built-in barometers.
Warm-bloodedness is a luxury, keeping a constant 98.6 degrees, I’ll bet more people would believe in global warming if they were born into a turtle family.
A turtle is always in the moment, it can’t let its mind wander for fear body temp will suffer, seasons within seasons under one shell.
The ephemeral nature of it all, life begins as an end in itself, we outpace rabbits but will never win the age race with a 200 year old tortoise.
To humans living two centuries is science fiction, but for tortoises it’s second nature.