IMOGENE’S NOTEBOOK

The Widow and The Tortoise

A fictional story of love and loss in the Galapagos Islands

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“There are but six degrees of separation between extinction and repopulation.” I pause for effect. “Literal degrees.”

Today’s tourist group is a captive audience, ranging in age from pre-teen to Boomer. They’re English-speaking and khaki-clad and likely North American, like me. At least half are wearing bucket hats or T-shirts emblazoned with cartoon renderings of our archipelago’s unofficial mascot, the Blue-Footed Boobie. They smell of citrus and coconut — sunblock, I assume, though my fellow, pink-skinned patrons would’ve been wise to use a bit more. I learned that lesson early on.

I continue. “Here at the Darwin Giant Tortoise Conservatory, we aim to increase the female tortoise population, therefore increasing future generations. Heat is the main determinant of gender.”

I notice a few raised brows, but most people nod, having seen their fair share of Sir David Attenborough documentaries.

“Presenting La Incubadora, the incubator,” I say with a game show arm flourish and forced smile.

It’s glass-doored, stainless steel, and stunning. I arrived at the conservatory in 2017, the same week this advanced egg warmer was…