We Can Fly With a Little Help From Our Friends

Thought for the day:  Man must  not allow the clock and the calendar to blind him to the fact that each moment of his life is a miracle and a mystery.   H.G. Welles

All's relatives at family reunions.

No, I'm not gonna go all Einstein-y on you, but the old dude was right. Time and speed are relative. Children have little grasp of time, and scant concern about it beyond the eon separating one Christmas from the next, or the interminable amount of time it takes to drive to Aunt Sally's or to the vacation spot at the beach. On the other hand, as we get older, our days no longer seem to contain the full allotment of twenty-four hours, and the days, weeks, months, and years pass so quickly, there doesn't even seem to be much point in bothering to take our Christmas decorations down anymore. Like the joke says, life is like a roll of toilet paper: the closer you get to the end, the faster it goes.

Speed's the same way. To a child pedaling his toy car down the driveway as fast as he can, he's flying like the wind. But if you put that same pedal car on the autobahn? Different story. And compared to a snail, a turtle moves pretty darned fast. But compared to a 747? Road kill.

Or at least,  it could be.

If  you've ever been disheartened by news stories about modern progress pushing yet another animal out of its natural habitat and to the brink of extinction, here's a story of a different breed. On June 29, a piece of the modern world hit the pause button. Or you could say ...  it slowed to a crawl.

You've heard of the annual running of the bulls? Well, every year diamondback terrapins leave the salt marshes of the Atlantic and Gulf coasts to take part in a slow motion stampede of their own. In this annual running of the turtles, these critters are lumbering to their nesting grounds, and every year, a herd of 'em crawls across a runway at New York's JFK Airport while making their laborious trek to the Jamaica Bay Refuge Center to lay their eggs. This year's journey intersected with JFK's Runway 4 on June 29, when an estimated 150 turtles shut down the runway and delayed flights for approximately an hour. As one unnamed Jet Blue pilot allegedly said, "Running over turtles is not healthy for them, nor is it good for the tires." Right. I can't see as how being run over by a 747 would be particularly healthy for any of God's creatures. Life transforming, perhaps, but definitely not healthy.

As soon as the first turtles were spotted on the tarmac, airport staff did what they do every year. They rushed out to help. Some terrapins were hand-carried across the runway to safety, while others were scooped up and given a lift to their nesting grounds in the bed of a pick-up truck.




It just goes to show you. Even if we cover it up with concrete, steel, and asphalt, nature is still all around us. And it was here first. It's good to know the folks at JFK Airport understand that.

Another thing this turtle tale reminds us. We might feel like the lone turtle on a scary runway at times, but we aren't alone. No matter what our destination, there are others willing to help us in our journey. In the amateur radio community, the more experienced hams who provide guidance and assistance to other hams are called Elmers. In schools and workplaces, we have tutors and mentors. Same for most hobbies, and same for writing. Especially in the blogosphere. Not only is there a host of aspiring writers blogging about their travails and triumphs, but there are also agents, editors, publishers, and already-published authors offering a treasure trove of tips, advise, and support, and bless their hearts, they're willing to throw us in the back of the truck and help us across that scary tarmac. In a matter of speaking.

Two authors will be killing me   dissecting my writing  throwing me in the back of their truck this coming Friday. The lovely Dianne Salerni and the lovely Marcy Hatch will be critiquing the first page of my novel Hot Flashes and Cold Lemonade on their blogs. Go on over and check it out. If I survive the surgery, you might even consider submitting a page of your own work. While you're checking out their blogs, you lovely people can even pick up a scalpel cut my baby to shreds   offer your valuable opinions, as well. (And remember, y'all. I did call you lovely. So be kind.)

Know what? I may still be a turtle, but with the support of so many wonderful friends, I feel like

SUPER TURTLE!!!

Super thanks to the fine folks at icanhascheezeburger.com for so graciously granting me permission to use that cool picture of the flying turtle.

We can all be super turtles. With a little help from our friends. Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.