Turtle Season

My favourite bench is shaped like a lounge chair and it faces the morning sun. I’ve been spotted there with and without my laptop, chatting on my phone, and simply soaking in the rare warm rays, face turned upwards like a sunflower. Behind my large sunglasses that leave panda tan lines, my eyes are shut. I’m there, and I’m not there.

The last time I sat at this spot, I noticed a woman just in front of me, 10 meters away. She was standing in the middle of the lawn next to a tree. Around that tree, there was a wild collection of tall flowers. She was in no hurry, just lingering, loitering, standing. Like me, she was a sunflower, too, with her face raised towards the sun.

She looked serene. But also out of place.

Why was she on the lawn? Why didn’t she sit down? Did she miss the countryside so much that she decided to step onto the lawn, as close to the flowers as she could get? Was she barefooted?

It felt like I was watching a French movie where you had to guess the ending just by looking at the main character’s facial expression in the closing scene.

I love French movies. And I couldn’t stop staring from behind my large, dark sunglasses.

I saw her glancing at the flowers every now and then. And then I noticed that she had a little carrier box. Ahah! Maybe she has a cat! But I can’t see it. Surely a cat would move around?

My mind moved onto guessing cloud shapes and plane destinations and I left her to it.

After what felt like forever, she bent down and lifted up a tiny green thing with a shell on its back and a twitching little nose. Her pet turtle. He was sniffing the air as he was suddenly lifted up from his adventure amongst the flowers and placed in the plastic carrier box. They headed home, I presume (or perhaps towards new adventures).

I could just imagine his little feet gently patting the grass as he raised his head and investigated this flower and that. It must’ve been a tiny slice of turtle paradise to be dropped in the middle of tall flowers.

The next day, I attended park yoga. “Breathe in the fresh air,” the instructor said, and I did. I watched birds circle up in the blue sky far, far away from me. Free as a bird is what I felt.

There’s something so different about doing yoga outdoors. So much better. With our hands, we pushed the air from the side to the front in slow, flowing movements, and I could feel all the knots untie.

“Thank yourself for showing up,” she said, and I did.

A couple of days later, I was riding my bike when I noticed something happening in a grassy area between buildings. A family was gathered there and an older man was explaining something to two children who seemed incredibly excited. The man then reached into a carrier box and placed something on the grass.

I smiled knowingly when I saw what it was.

A little pet turtle. This was turtle season for sure.

(The photos are from Finland, a couple of years ago.)