Newt Fest! (In Which I Render Newt Aid)

I'm in your woods and waters, fondling your reptiles and amphibians . . .

It's been rainy off and on for about the past week, but it cleared enough on Sunday morning that my husband and I were able to take a three-mile hike in our local gameland, SGL 176, the Scotia Pine Barrens. The woods were damp and misty, the fall colors were just starting in gentle tones of yellow gold, and the trails were LOADED with newts! NEWT FEST! (Or maybe . . . on their way to Newtstock?)

I spotted at least two dozen newts during our walk, and I photographed several of them. Only one was a red eft; the others were all various shades of greenish brown, with spots. The status of all newts was excellent: they were energetic, healthy, and full of beans! They almost seemed like tiny velociraptors, making their way through the woodlands.

Alas, however, many of them were walking on the main trails, which get more use of a weekend than you might expect. I almost stepped on one myself, violating one of my first rules in the woods (first, do no harm; second, render aid where it is needed).

So I skipped to my second rule, and decided to help out. And so it was that I rendered newt aid, removing any and all newts from paths where they could possibly be squashed. The newt in this photo was one of my rescues on this day.

In general, my philosophy about wild creatures is to admire them, photograph them, and let them be. As much as I wish I could fondle all of the reptiles and amphibians I come across, I do not generally handle the creatures unless they are in need of assistance of some kind.

Had the newt been off the beaten path, I wouldn't have touched it, and we wouldn't have this picture. Still, was it fun to hold this squiggly, marvelous little newt? Well, yes, yes, actually, it was quite lovely indeed! You may only see my hand in this photo, but please know that on my face was plastered a great big smile!

The soundtrack: The Doors, with Touch Me.


P.S. What follows is totally unrelated: a quick treatise on forgiveness, as we mark the 10th anniversary of Nickel Mines.

October 2 is a sad anniversary in Pennsylvania, as it marks the massacre of little girls at an Amish schoolhouse in the town of Nickel Mines, near Lancaster. A single gunman entered the schoolhouse on October 2, 2006, tied up 10 little girls, and then shot them, killing five before he killed himself.

The Amish community made international news when they immediately forgave the killer and stepped forward to embrace his family. The tale is a remarkable one that shows us just how much grace is possible, even in the most horrifying and devastating of times.

Hatred, well, heaven knows there's plenty of that going around nowadays. Revenge, that's a big one too (and remember what they said about that: before embarking on a voyage of revenge, first dig TWO graves). Forgiveness enables reconciliation and wholeness; it allows the world to knit itself back together and go on.

The question that I pondered on this day . . .
If they can forgive such a grievous hurt, what can YOU forgive?

Here are links to two news stories about the anniversary. I'm also including the reference to a book I read that is very useful in helping to understand the culture of Amish grace and forgiveness, particularly as related to the tragedy at Nickel Mines.

Washington Post: Her son shot their daughters 10 years ago. Then these Amish families embraced her as a friend.

NPR's StoryCorps: A Decade After Amish School Shooting, Gunman's Mother Talks of Forgiveness.

Donald Kraybill, Steven Nolt, and David Weaver-Zercher, Amish Grace, How Forgiveness Transcended Tragedy. (Link is to amazon.com listing.)