Copyright 1994(c)

                    LETTERS FROM LOXAHATCHEE
                           By D. Haire
 
     I've been learning what living in a swamp really means in the
last  couple of weeks. It means water ... lots of water ... water
everywhere. 
     We've been getting more rain than usual lately, about 14
inches more than normal this year so far. Of course, that's
measured over in the city, about 15 miles away. Out here we tend
to get more than what they record at the West Palm Beach Airport.
I guess that's to be expected, since you don't get a swamp in an
arid climate. And it saves me the trouble of watering the lawn.
After all, most of it's already under 2 feet of water. 
     My turtle pal was still out there, of course, except he had
a lot more room to swim around in. I still went out and fed him a
couple of times a day. He came swimming up to me each time,
practically right up to my hand, ready and eager to eat the dry cat
food I tossed out. My wife, Faye, says he won't do that for her;
won't even come close. I think she's getting jealous. Like the
cats. 
     That is, I did go out there and feed him. Except that, a few
days ago, he didn't come swimming over to the bank where I usually
stand. That was strange. It was the day after I had noted some new
inhabitants in the pond. More fish. I had seen a couple of playful
catfish around the time the turtle showed up and they seemed to be
a matched set (one went through the motions of laying eggs and the
other, well, you know ...) but they weren't exactly friendly, and
didn't seem interested in the food I'd toss the turtle. 
     These new fish were different. At first, I thought they were
bream (what we used to call "sunfish" when I was a kid) but they're
tiger striped and I still don't know what they are. 
     They are hungry little suckers and the guppies are extremely
wary of them. 
     Anyway, the turtle didn't show up that day. Or the next day
either. I began to worry. Especially since, on the 2nd day, I found
a dead baby catfish (the mating was apparently successful) and a
dead crawdad. On the 3rd day since I last saw the turtle, I found
another dead catfish. Well, only part of one; the head, the rest
was gone. I suspect it was a raccoon that did that. although we
have a heron that fishes the pond on a daily basis in the late
afternoon. I really began to worry about that turtle. 
     It felt a little strange to be worried about him. When you
think about what else is going on in the world, a turtle seems
pretty insignificant. I mean, you had Haiti under an invasion
threat, OJ Simpson on trial for the murder of his ex-wife, missing
children in almost every town, the usual shootings, stabbings, and
mayhem going on, and I was worried about a missing turtle. Strange.
     I mean it troubled me quite a bit. The pond seemed empty to
me. The fish were still there but it was still empty in a way. Fish
don't look at you, they don't seem to know you are really there,
the turtle was a friend. I hadn't realized how important he had 
become to me. 
     I went out to the pond this morning to toss some food to the
fish, something that is just not as personal as feeding that
turtle, when I spotted my little buddy paddling up to the bank. He
looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to toss him his food just
as if he'd never left. And I did. 
     O.J. is still on trial, things are still confusing down in
Haiti; kids are still missing; shootings, stabbings, and mayhem
are still happening every day. 
     But out here in Loxahatchee ... there is a little joy in life 
once again. 
                               END