There she was, one of the first females we met, shining bright toward me. She was 11 years old with other younger tortoises (so tiny and cute!), not yet of breeding age, who had lived with her at the backyard breeder’s home. (It is illegal to breed desert tortoises. They cannot be released to the wild environment without risking disease for the wild population, and a glut of tortoises need homes.)

I had to meet some of the other females while I was there. When I circled back to Shiloh Ma, she was waiting and looked up at me.

Another female in her 20s had been hit by a car, leaving her with permanent cuts in her lower back shell but with no internal organ damage. Her name was Lotus, and she was bright and outgoing. I was instantly in love. I asked if two females could get along, but Tegan said they may fight. She asked if I could check if they would get along. I received that they would not co-exist well and that I was to have one tortoise. Desert tortoises are solitary animals by nature. I paid heed and had to leave sweet Lotus behind.

Tegan had just given my tortoise friend the name Cora. Tegan asked me to tell her what my new friend had to say after she was home.

In the car, I called my tortoise friend “Cora” and pondered how that name was part of Corazon or heart in Spanish.

Adding to my naming game, I looked up Cora.

Cora is primarily a female name of Greek origin that means Heart, Maiden. Nicknames for the name Cora include Core and Corazon. Cora is another name for the Greek goddess Persephone. (https://babynames.com)

In classical mythology, Cora—or Kore—was a euphemistic name of Persephone, goddess of fertility and the underworld. Kore was the name used when referencing her identity as the goddess of Spring, while Persephone referred to her role as queen of the Underworld. (https://nameberry.com)

Cora is a given name, most commonly derived from the Ancient Greek Κόρη (Kórē), an epithet of the Greek goddess Persephone. Alternatively, but rarely, it may be rooted in the Gaelic cora, the comparative of cóir, meaning just, honest, virtuous or good. (Wikipedia)

What’s in a Name?
When I got Cora home in the afternoon heat, I showed her the water dish and placed her near her burrow. She entered it naturally and turned around to watch me as I took photos of her there.

When we looked at each other, I felt her essence as Ma. No other name would do. It was a natural progression in our lives, completing the masculine Mo with the feminine Ma.

The names Shiloh and Cora receded. I realized that the name Shiloh was a signal light drawing me to her from our connection in a previous life. The name Cora touched on her heart essence and also the nature of tortoises as of the underworld, spending most of their life sheltered in the earth.

The Numbers
Mo, born in 1997, was 22 when he came to me in 2019. Ma, born in 2012, is 11. 22 and 11 are master numbers and feature in my numerological birth chart.

AZGFD glues small identification tags on the tortoise shells to help return them home again in case they are missing. Mo’s ID number was 073, adding up to 1. Ma’s number is 153, which adds up to 9. The beginning and the end. The Alpha and the Omega—symbols of Divine Incarnation. These wise beings hold the space of the Ancient Grandmothers and Grandfathers with their caring for all life on our planet. I am blessed to be part of their circle.

Mo’s body is anchored in Mother Earth, while Ma walks the space above it. Blessings abound.

When I returned outside after leaving Ma to acclimate, I couldn’t find her. Tortoises look like rocks and blend into their desert surroundings. I often couldn’t find Mo, and he was twice her size. After going around her 30-foot diameter garden about five times, I finally found her tucked in the dried grass along the shadiest side of her burrow. She was happily doing what tortoises love to do—dwelling in a restful meditative state.

Visitations
Early in the morning after Ma’s arrival, a large bird I recognized as my roadrunner friend J appeared on the far south side of the Spirit Power Circle. I could feel why he came. He was hailing the arrival of Ma and honoring the departure of Mo.

In running stealth mode across the open meadow, he sprinted from bush to rock formation to cactus cluster until he arrived at the tortoise garden wall. He did not stop at the watering hole to take a drink and interrupt his mission.

I perceived a blue energy current connecting him to the garden perimeter and ending with Ma. J ran around the tortoise garden wall in view of the kitchen window until I could no longer see him. Sprinkles of light blessed the garden after his visitation. I could feel a deep understanding among J, Mo, and Ma. J has visited our land for years, and I delight to see his progeny through the seasons.

I sped through my morning yoga to get outdoors to see Ma. She was tucked into the ground under dried grass next to her burrow near where I found her the day before. Her head and feet were tightly tucked inside her shell. I lifted her to make sure she was alive and well. I felt she was better off inside her burrow as the day warmed, so I put her there. When I returned after tending the chickens and watering vegetables, I had to hunt again to find her. I was delighted to find her fresh manure, and then I saw Ma enjoying her garden exploration.

I sat to watch her. In a short while, she came to the far side of Mo’s rock-covered grave across from where I was sitting. I could feel her tender reverence and awareness of Mo and his dimensional passage.

Ma gazed at Mo’s grave with a sad knowing. She looked up at his grave marker that said Tortoise Crossing and then looked deeply into my eyes.

While Ma and Mo communicated, I could hear his distinctive whistling wheeze a few times (he had contracted a respiratory condition that scarred his lungs before he came to me). At first, I thought it was coming from Ma, but she was healthy and breathed normally. It came from the grave. I briefly saw a vision of Mo bursting from the earth with rocks upended. But (fortunately) no zombie apocalypse materialized.

Their passing of the baton continued for a while. Then Ma relaxed and took her attention off the grave. She had done her tribute. Mo was always with us.

Ma walked around and sampled her garden grass. I tried giving her Mo’s favorite ruellia flowers when she first arrived, but she recoiled from them and moved on. I tried again today, and she moved away from them, uninterested. I will try a variety of desert flowers as I did with Mo and see what she likes. Soon, the prickly pear fruit will ripen. As a top tortoise treat, I will love to see if she enjoys them as much as Mo did.

When she settled in the deep shade under the large wolfberry bush, I felt a relief. Ma had entered Mo’s favorite resting space and scraped her spot into the earth. It felt like I had two tortoises living with me. We all basked in the grace.