The Gracious Intruder

           A quick afternoon hike on my day off yielded some unexpected surprises.  There were redtails all in the sky above.  But far more exciting was this enormous snapping turtle, just a-sauntering down the lane that traverses State Game Land #117 near Burgettstown, Washington County.  These things live about 30 years in the wild, and they're mean!  To think that this guy could have been around back in the days of the Reagan Administration, and Glasnost, and Perestroika... Somehow the world felt more promising then.  Of course, all the possibilities of life do crowd in on you when you're 12.

           This guy wasn't in the mood to chitchat about Cyndi Lauper or the fall of the Berlin Wall.  No, when I placed my hat beside him (for comparison purposes) he struck at me fast as a snake...but not far enough to reach me.  He wouldn't turn his back on me, either.  When I walked around him to get a better look at the spiked shell just above his scaly tail, he turned around with me, keeping his eyes on mine.  I was invading his space, I know, but I couldn't resist baiting the turtle a little.  I put my walking stick near his nose, just to see what he would do.  He struck at it over and over with enormous speed and force.  I'd hate to get bitten by him.  His claws look uninviting, too.

           Speaking of "invading space," Japanese honeysuckle perfumes the air in all the countryside just north of Burgettstown.  This plant is an "invasive species," a gracious intruder, much hated by botanical purists whose cry is "local species."  And yet, the Japanese honeysuckle makes these old overgrown stripmines bloom with life.  These things are everywhere in the game land, and their delicate fragrance lifts the spirit.  They're living proof that sometimes things do get better.  Back when that snapping turtle was young, this land was an abandoned waste: pillaged, and stripped, and left to smolder beneath the summer sun.  Lifeless.  Treeless.  Exposed.  Today, at least, there is life here again, a hardy ecosystem of undemanding grasses, and low shrubs and the very toughest of birds and animals.  This isn't the prettiest place to hike near Pittsburgh, but in early May, it's certainly one of the most aroma-therapeutic.  In addition to the Japanese honeysuckle, there's a slightly sharp but pleasant scent of ramps in the air.  Up north, we call them "wild leeks," and their season is just about past.  

          It was a great day for a short trek, with the sun beaming brightly above scuttling clouds, the birds singing freely, and the warm breezes pressing me on.  However, I did find five deer ticks on me!  Three during the hike itself and two after I got home.  That number is unheard of.  It looks as if the bagworms are settling in for a good, long infestation around here, too, with their ugly nests in the trees.  This last picture is the springtime view of a shot I took back in the chilly days of February when there was a light dusting of snow on this very road.