Wilson the box turtle

So David and I had lunch with Bren

on her first day of school.

It was a rainy Monday morning

and everyone knows that turtles

come out to play when it rains.

I should have expected something magical.

We felt like exploring a little on our drive home,

so we went down Wilson Road.....

{the road of my childhood}

just to see if there was a backroad to get to our

house from there.

We drove all the way down to the water
and found that no thru street
had been constructed since
the days when I learned to ride my bike with no
hands down that very road,
so we headed back up the hill.



As we drove I said,
"Wouldn't it be awesome if we found
a box turtle crossing the road
so we could bring it home to Bren".
No sooner had the words left my mouth
that we saw this little guy making his way
across Wilson Road
DIRECTLY
in front of the house I grew up in!

If you don't think that God tells even box turtles
where they should be and when,
think again!


I squealed and stopped the van so
David could run out and pick him up.
He was a active little thing,
arms and legs swimming in the air all the way home!




We fed him strawberries, tomatoes
and lettuce until Bren got home from school.



Hunting for Box Turtles has been a daily ritual
for Brendell.
She's forever tromping behind her big brother
in her polka dot rain boots
{so as not to pick up poison ivy, ya know},
exploring the woods
looking for the elusive brown and yellow shells.
She was thrilled to finally see one
up close and in person!



Wilson the box turtle has brought
much joy to our home over the past
four days.
We've enjoyed letting him out in the yard
in the afternoons and watching him
explore.
He's no longer shy
and hardly ever closes himself up
in his shell when we approach him.
He's used to us now.
We kept him long enough
for Nana to come see him
and then together,
Nana and Bren let Wison go free.
He made a b-line towards our wood pile
and wedged himself in between two
large chunks of tree trunk.
As far as I know,
he's still there.

Sometimes I feel like a box turtle.
For Wilson, home goes with him
wherever he goes.
His permanent home is
wherever he is.
Sure he may shack up in the hollow of a log
for a day or two,
maybe even a week,
but soon he's on the move again,
taking his portable home along with him.

How nice to be at home
wherever you are!

I used to have a sign that said,
"Home is where the Navy sends you."
So true.
Home is fluid.
It's not a structure
or a location.
It's an attitude.
Home is deciding to live your gift of life
to the fullest right where you are.
Wherever you are.

As Navy families,
we take our home with us wherever we go
in shells shaped like cardboard boxes.
We travel across this country and abroad
adapting to each new place.
We surround ourselves
by the familiar material
and most importantly portable
comforts of home.
Our location changes,
but our attitudes do not.
Home is where you are.
Make the most of the time
you have there and LIVE!