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A Turtle's Silver Bead of Quietude

The day is bright and warm for December, but the logs in the marsh pond are bare. Spring to summer into early fall they served, on sunny days, as spa to a dozen or so painted turtles. I would see  them basking, splay-legged, stretching their leathery necks out full length, avid for every luscious atom of sunlight and sun-warmth.

Out of sight now, they’ve not escaped the harsher cold that’s coming.

The water is maybe waist-deep in this pond, but a murky soup, clogged with roots and plants. One day in the fall, as water and air cooled, at some precise temperature an ancient bell sounded in the turtle brain. A signal: Take a deep breath. Each creature slipped off her log and swam for the warmer muck bottom. Stroking her way through the woven walls of plant stems, she found her bottom place. She closed her eyes and dug into the mud. She buried herself.

And then, pulled into her shell, encased in darkness, she settled into a deep stillness. Her heart slowed -- and slowed -- almost to stopping. Her body temperature dropped -- and stopped just short of freezing. Now, beneath a layer of mud, beneath the weight of frigid water and its skin of ice and skim of snow, everything in her has gone so still she doesn’t need to breathe. And anyway, the iced-over pond will soon be empty of oxygen. Sunk in its bottom-mud, for six months she will not draw air into her lungs. To survive a cold that would kill her, or slow her so that predators would kill her, she slows herself beyond breath in a place where breath is not possible.

And waits. As ice locks in the marsh water and howling squalls batter its reeds and brush, beneath it all she waits. It is her one work, and it is not easy. Oxygen depletion stresses every particle of her. Lactic acid pools in her bloodstream. Her muscles begin to burn—her heart muscle, too, a deadly sign. That acid has to be neutralized, and calcium is the element to do it. Out of her bones, then out of her shell, her body pulls calcium, slowly dissolving her structure, her shape, her strength. But to move to escape -- requiring breath -- in a place where there is no oxygen -- that would suffocate her. So, though she is dissolving, every stressed particle of her stays focused on the silver bead of utter quietude.

It’s this radical simplicity that will save her. And deep within it, at the heart of her stillness, something she has no need to name, but something we might call trust: that one day, yes, the world will warm again, and with it, her life.

Syndicated from Awakin.org. Gayle Boss is an author who shines light on the human-animal bond.  She writes, "I’ve found it true, what the thirteenth-century mystic Meister Eckhart said: 'God is equally near in all creatures.'
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15 PAST RESPONSES

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Toni Aug 10, 2023
A reminder of the cycle of life. How needed it is with al that is before us now, steeping us in fear and uncertainty. Stillness calls.
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Cindy Aug 8, 2023
So beautifully explained. I paused and read it again.
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Jagannatha Das Aug 7, 2023
I did not know about these details regarding the hibernation of turtles. It is an amazing feat. Six months without moving, without breathing, literally dissolving part of its bones and shell to use the calcium in order to neutralize the acidity in its muscles including its heart. The acidity caused by its voluntary immobility. A reflex that is instinctively triggered by an internal warning in its brain for the imminent coming of a freezing winter.

What a wonder of nature! The power of simplicity and stillness.

The turtles could withstand the freezing temperatures of the harsh deadly winter and avoid death, through stillness and quietude.
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Kristin Pedemonti Aug 7, 2023
Tears. Thank you for this poignant and powerful reminder from nature to slow down in order to take care of oneself.
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Bev Hollander Aug 7, 2023
So beautiful!
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ann teplick Aug 7, 2023
A gorgeous and lyrical reflection. I am so happy to have read.
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steckert@frontiernet.net Aug 7, 2023
I have not read it it
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Patrick Aug 7, 2023
We had a resident Pond Turtle for years. Ticky the kids named her. She was always around and kept our snail population in check. The dogs never bothered her and she was happy to let the kids hold her. Every winter she would bury herself beneath an old clubhouse next our majestic Oak (Aidan). When that old clubhouse was torn down years later there was Ticky’s intact shell minus her body. Now that shell is a sacred rattle because of course all turtles are sacred.

Mitákuye oyàsin, hozho naashadoo, beannacht. [translation: All are my relatives (Lakota), therefore I will walk in harmony/beauty (Diné), blessed to be blessing (Irish).]
Reply 3 replies: Karen, Karen, Kristin
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Lisa Ganse Aug 7, 2023
Found it on google: A Turtle's Silver Bead Of Quietude Author Gayle Boss 488 words, 7K views, 8 comments Listen to Audio Translations sharethis sharing button Image of the Week The day is bright and warm for December, but the logs in the marsh pond are bare. Spring to summer into early fall they served, on sunny days, as spa to a dozen or so painted turtles. I would see them basking, splay-legged, stretching their leathery necks out full length, avid for every luscious atom of sunlight and sun-warmth. Out of sight now, they’ve not escaped the harsher cold that’s coming. The water is maybe waist-deep in this pond, but a murky soup, clogged with roots and plants. One day in the fall, as water and air cooled, at some precise temperature an ancient bell sounded in the turtle brain. A signal: Take a deep breath. Each creature slipped off her log and swam for the warmer muck bottom. Stroking her way through the woven walls of plant stems, she found her bottom place. Sh... [View Full Comment]
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Freda Karpf Aug 7, 2023
The link didn't work but you can find this wonderful essay by searching for the title. And I'm so glad I did. Beautifully written. Moving. The lives that are near to us and yet unknown shape our world.
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Edward Aug 7, 2023
A heart warming story
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Ginny Aug 7, 2023
No article here.
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Clare Creek Kelsey Aug 7, 2023
This a beautifully-worded passage. Please, where is the "more" for which I hit the button??!
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Teresa Aug 7, 2023
This link doesn't work. There is no article here.
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Teresa Aug 7, 2023
Time has always felt abstract for me.
Reply 1 reply: Kathleen