Fence Kill

The ditches were wet and deeply rutted with four-wheel pick-up trails. The grass was trampled by the fence. Other photographers had been here I said. I looked down to the bottom rung of the fence. There, stuck half way out and in was a turtle. I said, I will free him and place him on the other side. Upon freeing him, he was dried out dead. He had gotten stuck at the point where hind legs or front legs were of no use. And so he swam in the fence until he could swim no longer and died.
And such are we. Straddling that fence between going on and going back. Waiting too long upon going through, no return. You cannot return through the square of the fence no matter how hard you may push.
And so we must go on. Leave the little pond and venture on. Most choose to remain in the pond. That is fine. Just know, if you are called to leave, no turning back after a point.
Or, by some providence a photographer comes along in time and tosses you back. In the case of this turtle, too late.