
When we were hiking along our unmarked southern property line and we were stumbling down a steep hillside toward the seasonal creek, I came across a turtle shell among the rocks.
We commonly find bleached turtle shells all over Roundrock. I’d read once that a healthy forest in Missouri can support up to ten turtles an acre. Given that Roundrock is 80+ acres, that comes to 800 turtles in my forest. Let’s say a more likely number is 100 turtles at Roundrock — 100 turtles that have no regard for property lines, so they probably come and go as they please. Except when they come to a stop.
What you see above is the “skin” of a turtle shell. The bleached part of the shell was connected, but only barely. I was able to lift off this skin. I found the whole arrangement resting on its side against a rock on the steep hillside. I think there is a story in that.
I’ve found this particular tableau once before in my woods on another steep hillside near the shelter tarp. I’m pretty sure I know what happened. The turtle was crawling about farther up the hillside and somehow slipped, rolling down the hill as a result. I suspect this is not really a problem for a turtle since the shell is suited to a few bumps, and certainly it would not achieve any great velocity on the tumble. Unfortunately, when the turtle came to rest after its roll, it was on its back or side and could not right itself.
The first shell I found like this was actually wedged into a pair of rocks, and though the poor turtle probably had at least two of its feet on the ground, it couldn’t get itself loose. The unfortunate turtle above looked as though it was fully on its back but resting against a rock in such a way that it couldn’t work itself back over.
You know the rest of the story. The turtle either starved or baked to death. Predatory insects soon arrived. All that is left to tell the story is an empty shell.
That part of me that understands this is part of the circle of life consoles the rest of me that is saddened by this story, but it isn’t doing a very good job. In a way I feel like a bad steward that I hadn’t been roaming my land, on the lookout for this very kind of problem so I could correct it. In another way I realize that letting the natural way of things follow its course is exactly the way a good steward of the land should operate.
Still feel a bit sad though. I don’t suppose it was a sudden end, after all.
(Also, sorry about the blurry photo above. The lighting was good, so I expected to get a good macro shot. I suppose the camera had a little trouble focusing on the glossy surface of the inside of the shell skin. The tiny display window on the back of the camera sure doesn’t give you any indication of this kind of focusing problem. Apologies.)
Missouri calendar:
Purple martins arrive this week.
Mourning doves begin nesting.
Today in Missouri history:
The Swedish Nightingale, Jenny Lind, performed the first of six concerts in St. Louis on this date in 1851. Her promoter was P.T. Barnum.
By: Roundrockjournal Source