Turtles are vying for attention. Baby turtles at the edge of the sea. Tiny. Crossing an edge – the shoreline – from land to sea. They feature in my Mother’s tapestry. They featured too on David’ Attenborough’s Planet Earth II last night – following the full moon to the sea. The light reflected in their tiny, ancient and yet new, eyes, glistening with age old intelligence. How do they feel when they see that Moon? Is it a surge of Adrenalin? Excitement? Love? What draws them to it. A promise of safety? Does it promise Mother’s arms? How does that ‘rightness’ feel? And how does it feel when they are distracted by other lights? When does it feel not right? Like as a child when you put your shoes on the wrong feet or your pants on backwards. It feels a bit wrong but you don’t know why. When do the turtles know their betrayal? Is it when they are gathered in the storm drain? Or exhausted after propelling themselves far longer than nature intended, past hungry crabs at the edge of the beach, across roads, away, away from the sea? When do they know they have been abandoned? That the promise was a lie? That they are lost, abandoned by the light? And how bad is that betrayal?
What can we really do to stop this?
We simply must!