When the sun is bright and hot enough to melt my sins, that’s when I begin to think maybe a gopher tortoise will come out from a tunnel near enough to the house for me to take a picture.
Today fit the bill, for sure, with the temperature close to 100 and the humidity following too closely. I’ve been thinking about the folks in town who live in that trailer park where the landlords didn’t pay the water bill and so the water got turned off for days on end, with all those old people, sick people, and babies. That’s a misery index to ponder.
Maggie’s wild weasle bark broke into my fretting mind. She only barks at armadillos, deer who come within spitting distance of the backyard fence, the shadow cast by low-flying military helicopters or buzzards, and grazing gopher tortoises.
I hopped up from my desk and ran to see which one it was. Gopherus polyphemous! Buck saw me grab my camera and run for the back door. He followed along and tried to get me to pick up the grand, ancient creature so he could take our picture. Nothing doing. Not me. You do it.
Is it just me, or do you think G.P. looks seriously aggravated?