Walking on the beach at the end of the day, I encounter a young woman creating what looks like a runway, in the sand.
She is swiftly working on connecting an area quite a bit higher on the beach - where several women are sitting, talking animatedly - and the ocean. Smoothing the sand with her hands, smiling.
As I get closer I realize that she is barely staying one step ahead of a TINY little turtle, who obviously has some place to be, and wants to get there fast.
I knew about turtles hatching on the beach and I had seen the signs to not disturb the many nests. But I had never seen, never felt, this miracle.
The size of a child’s palm, I am told the he had just hatched minutes ago, ahead of the other 13 eggs which the women were carefully guarding. Out of his egg, he immediately turned its tiny prehistoric-looking-yet-so-very-new body towards the big ocean, and was making its way towards it.
Without a thought, I dropped onto my knees to follow his first big adventure, my heart still and so full, knowing I was witnessing something sacred, something that I was privileged to be allowed to see, something that has been going on forever.
One of the women arrived by my side, obviously much more savvy about what was happening than I was, and quietly told me that this turtle would come back at this exact spot, 15 years from now, to hatch her own eggs.
Like I said, sacred.
Sacred and yet so full of energy. Several times, The Little One decided to veer to the left, climbing over the sandy mound that was supposed to mark his smooth, unencumbered highway. He (she?) was focused, very focused. There was a huge sense of purpose, and yet also a sense of play. Or maybe I made that up. Heck, I know nothing about sea turtles, just that … wow. It was huge.
Little by little, he got closer to the waves, and big waves they were.
How was this going to work? We all held our breaths.
I’ll let you watch the video now because there really is nothing I can say that is going to add to seeing it.
SEE IT HERE
And at the end, if you listen carefully over the sound of the waves, you might hear a voice - certainly a mom’s voice - call out: Make Good Choices, Little One!
Life is so darn rich.
(and this was so very good that I somehow left my driver’s license in the sand, that night. But that’s another story, another magical story)