I was not thrilled with the duty of a trip to town to gather supplies for an afternoon picnic up the valley, but the drive to town at least offered several photo-ops.
This snapping turtle stared me down as I started up the last hill before the hard top.
He impressed me as an ancient warrior–a Goth perhaps–in a coat of mail, shield permanently in place to protect him from behind.
I am sure that when I drove off, he returned to the upright position, retrieved his sword from the side of the road, and continued on his quest for adventure and romance.
Or maybe I’m just a permanent victim of a long history of Gary Larsen exposure.