Flower, the freeloading box turtle hatchling who took possession of my garage lab on 14 November, has begun to practice magic. Waking as the first light of dawn poked through the oak leaf pile, under which she hides each night presumably from mythical garage owls, Flower plowed through her breakfast plate of chopped tomato, lettuce, mushroom and berries and sauntered across her makeshift terrarium. She paused for a brief stopover at her wading pool to wash out the night’s cobwebs, then zigzagged to the converted sushi bowl, which serves as her swimming hole. She slipped down a mossy patch, which subs as a safety ladder and spent the rest of the day lounging in her pool.
Eastern Box Turtle Hatchling
When I checked this evening, Flower had rumbled back across the terrarium to her secret hideaway. And, amazingly, the entire sushi bowl was bare dry. Not a hint of moisture remained. How a quarter ounce hatchling manages to conceal a quarter cup of water indicates a level of magical power beyond mere mortal power to discern.