The Visitor

Ancient being:
Snapping turtle, to be exact, 
appearing in the bog below my house.
I discover her on my morning walk,
pausing to peer into the murky wetness
in time to see her shining form
emerge out of the shadowed depths.
My heart slows at the slowness of her rising,
and I can hardly bear the slow
protrusion of her massive head.
I watch the layers of liquid mud 
slip from her battered shell,
and raise my camera praying
that my longing to record this visitation
will be perceived as reverent in tone.

Over several days, she visited the bog. I wasn't the only one who watched for her brief appearances with fascination. Perhaps it became a bit too much for solitary sensibilities. I haven't glimpsed her for about a week.  Of course I have several photos of her, but I chose this one of her ponderous swim away from me. It makes it clear that she was only visiting.