Monday morning’s coffee time on the driveway in the warm humid air had two rewarding wildlife compensations. This downtown quarter acre, surrounded as it is by so much pavement and various structures, seems hardly hospitable to the visitor that Sumner spotted coming up the driveway: a turtle.
He understandably clammed up tight as he was sniffed at and fully investigated by the duly-appointed yard warden.
We watched him a while from a short distance but he was like the pot yet to boil—once we turned away, he was off like a shot, ducking up under a smattering of leaves along the property line fence. We left him to continue his journey at will. Twenty years, nearly, in this fine old manse and this is my first turtle here, for sure.
The other entertainment was the victory of a cicada killer wasp taking down its quarry just a few yards from where we were keeping an eye on the turtle. Seemed worth capturing with video and still photos.
The cicada killer worked expertly and efficiently and, while I do love my summer cicadas, I get that life has its particular arrangements.
When she was ready to hustle off with her meal, it was worthy of a Benny Hill soundtrack, and I was happy to give her room to move.
Then my camp chair got commandeered for positioning and situating.
I was happy to observe from a close enough distance...
...while maintaining suitable respect for the enterprise.
Still, it all played out as it must, and eventually the cicada killer and the killed cicada headed up the nearby maple tree, where ultimately a fine feast was likely laid.
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