Turtle saver seeks to set the story straight
John C. Lorson, a lifelong turtle rescuer, documents yet another roadside save — this time, a hefty snapping turtle spotted mid-bridge on a popular bike trail.
It’s a peculiar picture, for sure, but there’s a story behind it. Whether that makes it more or less weird is up to you. First, a little background.
For years, decades, a lifetime even, I have been a rescuer of turtles. Spend enough time looking at the roadway from the saddle of a bicycle, and you’ll invariably come across one of the turtles I wasn’t able to save. Pressed flat, sun dried and (as one of my favorite science teachers would undoubtedly say) “suitable for framing,” a dead turtle is a testament to the hurried nature of man.
If you can’t nudge your steering wheel a half-degree in either direction to miss an object the size of a soup bowl that is moving all of 5 feet per minute, then you need to hang up the phone, put down your coffee and quit driving with your knees.
On a bicycle it’s easy to recognize the struggle of a creature carrying its entire home across the highway. That’s why I always stop to nudge the little slowpoke along to where it wants to go.
I’ve shared tales of these rescues for years, often accompanied by photographs of the recipients of my gallantry. Invariably, folks would wonder aloud about the size of the turtle. “You need to give the picture some perspective,” they would say. So I made it a point to put myself in the picture for the next go round.
It was a snapping turtle and a big one at that. “She” (I could tell by the length of her toenails) was actually crossing the creek on the centerline of a bridge on the bicycle trail. The reason for this remains mysterious. Nevertheless, buggies travel that trail, along with bikes, sometimes at breakneck speed, and the peril was real.
I leaned my bike against the rail and proceeded with the mission, but before I nudged her along, I needed to grab a quick photo to prove the true size of the rescuee.
As a photographer, it’s important to frame your subject in a manner that maximizes its qualities and attributes, so shooting from turtle-eye level was a must. I took off my helmet, laid it in front of my subject, balanced my camera on top and set the timer, giving myself just enough time to scurry behind the beast before the click.
“Perfect” is often the enemy of “pretty darn good,” and I was stuck in that loop for every bit of 10 minutes as I crawled back and forth on the deck of that bridge. Lost in my art and focused solely on getting it right, I was oblivious to all other goings-on in my immediate surroundings.
When I finally got the image I was hoping for, I jumped to my feet, threw my arms in the air and shouted “yes” to the universe.
That universe included a lone, bonneted woman standing over her bicycle at the far mouth of the bridge. She had watched me crawl back and forth across that deck for most of those 10 minutes, but because my own carcass was always in the way, she had no view or knowledge of the turtle. All she saw was a madman in bicycle clothes rolling around on a bridge.
Peculiar picture, weird circumstance or a little bit of both? You be the judge. At least now you know the rest of the story.
Kristin and John Lorson would love to hear from you. Write Drawing Laughter, P.O. Box 170, Fredericksburg, OH 44627, or email John at jlorson@alonovus.com.