On the way back from the river the other day I nearly walked on a turtle. At the time I was clambering over some rocks and just before planting my foot I realized that one of the rocks looked odd. It was. It was a turtle that embarked on what, from a turtle´s point of view, would have been a major mountaineering adventure.

I like turtles. They are one of the few animals slow enough to allow you to take a decent photo of them. I think they are a bit vain that way. I also like them because they are lazy and like to spend their free time napping. They are remarkably graceless in their entry into the river when they are disturbed while sun bathing. They just plop in like a displaced rock.

I plod along through life at my own modest pace but, compared to a Guadalhorce river turtle, I am living in the fast lane. Turtles make you feel good about yourself that way. If they could talk (which they can´t) they would probably say something like “Jesus, what´s the rush? Calm down a bit.”

Turtles are armoured tanks without gun turrets. Their climbing technique lacks technical refinement. They just haul themselves along with grim determination and at their own pace.

My rock turtle might have been a bit annoyed with me but he didn´t show it. He allowed me to prop him up so I could get a decent shot of him.

Then he went on his way and I went on mine.




Almost a rock but not quite