shell of a small turtle that had been crunched flat by a car. The lack of speed had been the poor creature’s undoing. It reminded me of several months ago when I had the chance to aid a box turtle’s trek across Colony, only to selfishly hasten on my way. The next day, the smashed turtle’s carcass caused me shame and regret. There wasn’t much I could do but lament the demise of today’s juvenile turtle.
The impromptu post-mortem complete, I carried on up the road. In this part of town, as in many neighborhoods in Charlotte, the tree canopy extends over the pavement. As I ambled beneath the limbs about 50 yards past the death scene, a loud screech nearly directly overhead literally caused me to jump. It was the hoot of some owl, species unknown, and the bird scared the living bejesus out of me. It was a single, loud hoot. I’m not sure what the owl was announcing but it’s the sort of noise that makes the morning jaunt come alive.
Those were the two memorable portions of today’s stroll. If you count the fully intact and functioning iPhone I found on the grass adjacent to the sidewalk, you could round that figure up to three. I’ll tote the device up to Verizon to see if they can help solve the riddle of the passcode so the phone can be returned to the young woman whose photo is on the screen.
I suppose being nice is one of the remaining functions that an aging person can do.