
In this case, to get to the swamp on the other side. Which begs the question, why wasn’t he there in the first place?

After I held him high and showed him the swamp (“Head off in that direction, buddy; do not turn around!”), he let me see his cool little face. That, or he was preparing for attack. No idea if he was a snapper. But I think not.

Pretty much everyone that happened by was thinking, “For God’s sake, lady, quit taking photos and get him out of the road.” There are few things sadder than a crushed turtle.

Off to his new home. I hope. I didn’t stick around. Brief interventions with nature are best, no?
[And if you think that was exciting, wait till you see tomorrow’s mind-blowing intervention! It’s a night blooming cereus – grade nail biter that will go on for days.]

A Painter, not a Snapper. I hope it kept to the swamp side of the road
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A painter, not a Snapper. I hope he stayed on the swamp side of the road
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Me, too. Thanks for the intel. He was VERY beautiful and his shell felt so cool.
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Cuz he’s a rambler and a gambler
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Sounds like southern rock. Or country?
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