keep the wild inside

What do turtles dream when they sally into the froth. I've got a baby Ridley's in one hand and a camera in the other, and I wonder what this little bugger is dreaming?

"Be safe, you little motherfucker," I whisper, and Abbi Hendrix crossly shouts my name and warns me not to give any other baby Ridley a complex with such a curseword. The little one I have in my hand bicycles wildly for freedom and I let him (her?) go.

Write me a note, let me know if you're one of the two percent who make it, I say. The baby turtle ignores me and heads for the ocean.

 

 

 

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