Folks’ toes if they dont be watchful wadin. See yan’n? Where? Towards them willers yander. Down there? Dont pint ye fanger ye’ll scare him. You pointed. Thatn’s eyes was shut. Hush now. He opened his eyes. Redwings rose from a bower in the sedge with thin cries. He bent to the oars again and came down the narrows and into the main channel, the skiff laying a viscid wake on the river and the bite of the oars sucking away in sluggish coils.
Perfectly pictured turtles entering the water...
triggers childhood memory with turtle hunter, not horrible, rather curious, interested in turtles, "what do you do with them?" Turtles place in this world. The order of things....
Then the transition back to the boat in the river.
