Apparently it’s turtle season around here. That time of year when the females leave their ponds and swamps and wander out into our yards, roads and gardens to find the perfect place to lay a few eggs.

Yesterday late afternoon I backed out of my driveway, watching behind me via the car’s rear camera. When I got to the road I paused and glanced up, looking back toward the house. What was that pile of brownish green stuff up there at the edge of the driveway?

A big ole mama snapping turtle, that’s what it was. I (and she) was lucky she wasn’t in the middle of the driveway because I don’t know that I would have seen her. She’s around every spring, and I should know to look around before I take off these days.

This late afternoon the ring camera doorbell chimed. That sound is supposed to tell us there’s someone at the front door. Out here in the country it can mean all sorts of other things, like cats, raccoons, possums, and even a neighborhood dog. Today when the chimes rang I checked out front and at first didn’t see anything. But Penny was insistent that something was out there, mom!

Husband checked his phone where the doorbell reports, and found the notice “a tortoise is crossing the yard.” And there she was, up along the side of the porch.

She’s a Blanding’s turtle, and she and others like her are endangered around here. I was glad she was in our garden, and after taking her picture, I tiptoed away.

But of course Pen wants to go outside, and I can’t let her go out the front until the turtle has moved along. Last time I checked she was on our front step.

I don’t know where she plans to go next.

Meanwhile Pen and I will stay inside – she’s abandoned me because obviously I am incompetent – and has retreated to her daddy’s lap.

I guess going outside is not as high a priority as I thought.