The Hatchling
The summer after my little one died, guided by the force that advances and halts the water, we set out for the place they instinctively knew to go. When we arrived, their nests peppered the beach and told us they too, had arrived. They, too, had found their way to the place where life would start anew. We observed the nests from afar until my brave one commanded us to “Come and See” with such a sense of urgency we could not deny him.
Generation after generation, the sea turtle migration spans the oceans and always leads back to the same place. The mothers come ashore, establish their nests, cover them in the sand and quietly return to the waters. It’s believed the hatchlings are prompted by the tides and will be drawn to the deep waters by the moonlight. Intrigued by their beauty and instinctive ways, people make pilgrimages to the shores. They stand watch over the rustic nests, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mystery as it unfolds.
We hovered over what looked like a small pile of sand. With an exhausted sigh my brave one whispered, “Do you see it?” Hidden among the grains of sand, a tiny creature was about to begin its journey on this earth. The setting sun cast burnt orange brush strokes across the sky while we quietly settled in to watch the mystery unfold- enchanted by the beauty unfolding.
We were enchanted then and are enchanted now
After what felt like a lifetime, the tiny creature broke through and reluctantly pushed towards the waves lapping the shore. When it arrived, the tide scooped it up and gently rocked it between the waves. We stood watch as the heavens soothed it’s tired body and urged it further into the sea. We stood watch until the tiny creature could no longer be seen and the colors of the sky seemed to wash away in the ocean’s waters.
I have come to accept my journey will take directions I do not understand. At times it will exhaust and others it will rejuvenate. Regardless of where my journey takes me, I know- with the depth of my soul I know- it is not about anticipating what should be or mourning what could have been. This life is about pressing on and being enchanted by its unfolding beauty
