Almost Home

Yesterday driving from a long trip away, we were almost home and passing a large wetland. A small turtle was at the edge of the road. Both myself and the car in front of me managed to miss the turtle. I was able to immediately turn around and pull over to move the turtle off the road. As we watched two cars sped past and the second car ran over the turtle. My partner put its bleeding shattered body in the grass beside the road. We stood together in shock and then left. As we passed the spot, a homeowner ran his lawnmower over the turtle.

My partner quietly cried the rest of the way home, but I couldn't feel that much in the moment. Only later when its image flashed into my mind, the small head seeking the direction it wanted to go right before the cars came, was I able to necessarily grieve. I saw this individual being. For a moment my consciousness knew this turtle and it became my kin, a part of my life and valued. It became a part of me. I know that upturned face seeking to taste the sun.

This is what happens when we drive our bodies around in heavy machines of power. Instead of one being facing another breathing each other's air and entering each others senses, we become insensitive pieces of rigid metal ego.