Baby Sea Turtles: A Short Story of Life, Lose, and Rekindling Hope Through Perspective

Sea Turtles… Those Magnificant m.f.ers are heroes and let me tell you why.

Any single one who survives the first day of their lives is bound to live (hopefully) long and prosperously, and often, as the narrator made the audience very aware, often in spite of us as a race these days.

Recently I was consuming a documentary about baby sea turtles and I had to put down my cereal, because it brought a stunning reality to the surface, like a punch straight to the gut, it cut me, tearing into my heart with razor-sharp teeth, taking away any preconceived notion, that there might be any difference between me and my brethren of the ocean.

There hidden in the flight of the baby sea kings, lie the human plight, strategically placed right in plain sight, Animal Planet takes the bait, finds and observed and then serves it in color…

It may seem absurd but it made perfect sense to me as I was watching, it was almost terrifying to see Mother Nature speaking anxiously to her dear little human beings, “you are all in search of your own sea… listen to me, I am calling…” 

Sure, it sounds eccentric, now that I’m writing it but I still feel it’s truth coursing through my veins. But let me give you a little backstory to the mind-blowing parallel I’m trying to convey…

Baby turtles are born in a certain season, their parents seem to follow an inborn plan, the eggs lain are then left to Fate, while the others return to the sea and wait, hoping the little ones will show up, even if a little late, they all travel the path at their own pace, at any rate, they may symbolize the wisest of creatures, boundless in beauty and ever flowing but their grace to be didn’t come without the twist of fate and the desire for life intervening.

In that, my deepest inkling tells me, they and we are similar, see, they start out in a near brush with death and yet… even with threats descending they are inclined to find a water-line they’ve never seen. Somehow a compass arises from within as if they are convinced it exists and somehow they know that their chances to be missed by the predators lurking excitedly awaiting their exodus from the safety of their nests to the waters lapping and waving at their progress.

It’s safe to assume each turtle is doing it’s best to keep up and move along with the rest, but in reality, only the luck and the fastest, most clever babies will make it…

For some that fatefully longest day, it will be the birds or crabs that carry them away, others rocks will block them off. Some get lost in the vast sand, turned around and confused by the trauma and abuse… The pecking beasts who see them only as a feast, and uneven ground that bogs them down, creating the illusion the terrain is endless… are you getting a sense of resonance from this? Because it gave me the chills…

Who needs pills when nature cleverly exposes grand schemes of things and processes seen as repeating.

Some baby Sea Turtles are bound to an existence of suffering simply because they didn’t  get a good start, maybe fear kept them from following their deep intuitions, instincts I believe the narrator defined them, I remember falling over on my couch at this point I had to pause it, because it called to mind a fond memory of the first time I’d felt bonded to the creatures. A turtle thirty years my senior, he and me staring, separated only by glass… I’d fallen in love with his graceful show without knowing the battleground he’d faced just to be here, only to be placed in a glorified vase to be staring at… little had I known it was my first exposure to the true unfairness of being owned and feeling alone in the knowledge of it…

 

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