Reptile Encounter

 My bare feet padded smoothly, almost lithely across the warm sand. They rested gently one after the other in a sinuous line along the cinnamon-coloured beach, whose springy surface seemed to reflect infinitely and in all directions the whole of the bright beams. The strong afternoon sun, sole and majestic above the firmament, kept shining brilliantly over my sandy path.
 For my part, I just could not help but take enormous pleasure in this peaceful stroll, this quiet and restful promenade in such a gorgeous place.


 Here and there a little crab scuttled into its nook, a tiny hole dug effortlessly at a safe distance from the indefatigable waves. Eventually a great seagull glided low past me until, having spotted its sought-after nourishment, nimbly touched ground, helped by a single flap of its slender wings.
 The calm breeze went on bearing the Ocean's balm, that unique scent that only millions upon millions of litres of salty water perpetually undulating above the seabed and containing within the greatest plurality of life can possibly beget. I could smell the water, the earth, the air. It even occurred to me I could smell the fire that shrouded me in the form of fiery slanting rays. These reached their sublime object, their sublime destination after their immemorial journey and I found myself there still, simply enjoying the heavenly spectacle.

 Walking on through this extensive serenity, I happened to notice a dark green object, round and shiny, like a pebble washed up by the soft spume delineated at the waves' tips. Pebbles or stones are a rare sight among those parts' pure sand and so I decided to approach and have a close look.
 Perhaps I would have picked the object up and thrust it with all my might against the challenging waters that came tirelessly from the heart of their all-powerful master, that immortal Sea God whose reign covers most of the planet's surface and alternates as if on a whim between uncrushable wrath and satiated calmness.
 But, to my surprise, I saw the thing move a few centimetres and then a few metres towards the foam-rimmed waves. "So, it is not a stone after all", I thought as I got closer, though more carefully now. Finally, I was near enough to note its four bandy legs, its round dark shell and its squarish little head, wagging right and left as it staggered against the tide. It was the tiniest turtle I had ever seen. And I suspect I will never get the chance to set eyes upon one smaller. 


 This lovely living thing was in dire straits. It was heart-wrenchingly fighting its own battle on the result of which depended its young, inexperienced life.
 I just stood there watching it for a few minutes but it was apparently losing ground as wave after wave shattered its strenuous efforts and left it helpless at lengthy metres from the precious goal. From scratch, it would start doggedly towards the sea. Towards her natural environment and survival. Perhaps, towards her mother, who might be waiting immovably, although by then rather resigned, far deep in the currents of the Atlantic. Or far, at any rate, from the shore and the child that kept on trying and trying, hanging for dear life.
 But again and again the little turtle was mercilessly hurled back to the very beginning of its terrifying ordeal .
 I decided to help- at least I attempted to help- despite the turtle's manifest fragility. Her minute body was likely to break into countless pieces between my clumsy hands. All the same, I felt pity as I wondered what its feelings might be at that grievous moment. It seemed to me that no matter how long I may have waited there, by its side, the resolute creature would have carried on and on, until, at long last, her energies would have abated and her legs given way, forever.
 I took it in my hands, palms dwarfing it comically. And I walked straight into the sea, amid whose cruel waters I gingerly released it.


 Time went by and I saw it no more.


 I will never know whether that little turtle finally managed to reach its kin, to reach the depths that would witness its patient longevity. But I remained there, for some time gazing at the horizon and pondering how many living things, how many human beings would be also trapped, at that very moment, in the toils of their bitter destinies.


 I walked home at sunset. Leaving the beauteous shores for the hilly village, I remembered the turtle's life-or-death encounter against its relentless torture. The sunshine and the warmth were gone. And sadness overcame me, in the end.