A small enclosure of forest mulch, organic foods and fresh water, it meets the basic needs of its 13 inhabitants. But rather than a temporary camp, it is a permanent one; a small, faint imitation of the sprawling forests that once stood where Chapel Hill is now.

This small backyard sanctuary is home to the injured and rehabilitated box turtles that Jeff Ginsburg, a local turtle rehabilitator and conservationist, cares for. She provides treatment and a home for injured turtles that have lost their habitat.

"They lose their habitats when buildings, suburbs and roads are built," said Ginsburg, a nurse at UNC Hospice. "They don't have a homeland."

Box turtles usually live their entire lives within a relatively small area. When development destroys the woods and grasslands in that area and drives them from their natural habitat, they are more likely to have to cross roads. Often that brings them into contact with another human-related problem: cars.

Those encounters leave some turtles without feet or with broken shells. And those are the lucky ones; the less fortunate become road kill, further diminishing an already dwindling box turtle population.

"Box turtles can sustain major injuries," Ginsburg said. "They have amazing resiliency, but I don't know if they can survive civilization."

Ginsburg first began rescuing box turtles 20 years ago after her husband saw a driver swerve to try to kill two turtles crossing the road outside their Chapel Hill home.

"It broke my heart," she said. "I used to work with sea turtles in Atlanta, but our turtles are getting hit by cars. I switched my efforts then."

Among her turtles is Maggie, a 30-year-old survivor who was found four years ago on the side of Club Boulevard in Durham. When she was brought into Piedmont Wildlife Center, where Ginsburg was serving as a volunteer, her outcome didn't look promising.

Her injuries were catastrophic. She had lost a foot and suffered a broken shell, and was infested with maggots feasting on her wounds.

"They wanted to euthanize her, but I threw her a worm and she ate it," Ginsburg said. "I said 'No!' She was eating and could definitely live."

Today, Maggie is alive and healthy with a long, distinct battle scar where the crack in her shell healed -- a tribute of sorts to the hundreds of other box turtles who have faced the same circumstances and have not survived.

Ginsburg believes Maggie was relocated from her natural habitat. For box turtles, who have a homing instinct, relocation usually means death; taken out of their home area, they will set out to return to it, making it more likely they will cross more roads.

For Ginsburg, who gives several talks a year to groups such as the Audubon Society, Girl Scouts and state wildlife rehabilitators, the key to the fight to save turtles is education.

"By talking and educating people about the importance of taking care of turtles, I'm doing more than I've ever done," she said.

Ginsburg especially stresses safety when pulling over on the side of the road to help turtles. Always pull all the way off the road in front of the turtle and move it to the side of the road the creature is heading toward, she said.

It is by talking that Ginsburg has inspired others such as a local Girl Scout troop, whose members have become vigilant about helping turtles, and Kristan Cramer, a volunteer at Piedmont Wildlife Center.

"When I first arrived at Piedmont, Jeff was here. I just simply asked her to teach me," Cramer said, who has gone on to become a home rehabilitator.

Efforts in the Piedmont area for box turtles have been impressive, thanks to the work of home rehabilitators such as Ginsburg and organizations such as Piedmont Wildlife Center and the N.C. State Veterinary Turtle Rescue Team. But as development increases, so do turtle injuries, especially shell injuries, which can take up to a year to fully heal.

"We can't do the work we do without people like Jeff," said Gail Abrams, Piedmont Wildlife Center executive director. "Right now we are filled at capacity with what we can do, so we rely on home rehabilitators to do what we can't do. Turtles can stay with Jeff and other home rehabilitators for a long time."

Just last week, Piedmont announced that due to budget shortfalls it would be closing its wildlife clinic, leaving turtles and other ill or injured animals with one fewer option. The work done by Ginsburg and other home rehabilitators is becoming even more crucial.

"Home rehabilitators for all animals will be networking extensively," Ginsburg said. She has a permit to take in up to 25 turtles.

Relative to the number of turtles being injured, that may be just a drop in the bucket. But Ginsburg said her work reminds her of Loren Eisley's story about the man who comes upon a boy throwing stranded starfish back into the sea. When the man points out that there are countless starfish on the beach and the boy's efforts can't possibly make a difference, the boy picks up another starfish, throws it back and says, "It makes a difference for that one."

"There are thousands of turtles out there," Ginsburg said. "But what I'm doing makes a difference to my turtles."