The day after I mused about turtles recently I received the library notice that a book I'd put on hold eons ago was available. This was Of Time and Turtles: Mending the World, Shattered Shell by Shattered Shell, written by Sy Montgomery with illustrations by Matt Patterson.
On one level it's an inspiring book about people who rescue turtles in quixotic, brave, and practical ways. Montgomery and Patterson wade into the weeds with them, literally, and take on the mending, hatching, and nurture of all manner of turtles. It's also about a specific couple who are partners in life and partners in rescue, bold and brave and practical.
I learned a lot of practical stuff about turtles but I wasn't prepared for this to be a philosophical and spiritual reflection on the human relationship with these reptiles and other creatures. Montgomery is an award-winning writer who draws on a number of different spiritual traditions as she reflects on what relating to turtles brings to those who are involved with them from day to day. I am fascinated by the critters but I don't really consider them to be sentient creatures who can teach us about attention and patience. I will now. Montgomery is a Methodist herself but her eclecticism is refreshing.
Later in the book she shares that the turtle rescue couple is transgender, and makes connections between what they have learned about themselves and what they've learned from their reptile companions.
It happened that I came to this part of the book on the day of the Pride Parade in Belleville. I cycled downtown and home, making my way along the waterfront trail. As I rode back I passed a number of turtles, some on the move to lay eggs. It seemed appropriate somehow.
And at the conclusion of the book Montgomery makes an "eggs-estential" observation I found to be rather profound. Here it is:
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