by Candace Walsh Candace Walsh with gratitude to Gerard Manley Hopkins’ “Pied Beauty” All tortoises look ancient, even this baby one, wizened face looking back. Paused in his glacial-pace crossing of a road more often met with deer hooves, squirrel paws, turkey vulture talons, and my shoes than tires. Angled unwisely, taking the longest-fraught distance between two points of roadside wildgrass. I paused, stilled by his peril. Who would ever look at him and think soup or barre