Returning home from as far as the northern temperate waters of the deep blue sea, the leatherbacks, having swum gracefully and more swiftly than sharks through the waters, lumber clumsily onto the soft thick sands of the tropical beach, remembering their early hours and days being hatched in the warm comfort of the dense earth. Measuring as long as five feet with flexible long leathery backs they lay their round, white eggs in clusters underneath in carefully dug holes in the ground. It is an amazing sight to see, a bold and unforgiving invasion of privacy, prying hands and leering eyes reflecting bright fiery torches across the quiet coast.
In the early morn at first rise of day birds pluck at the eggs and pick them dry, voyeurs waiting up all night take quick raw photos for their souvenir albums. Poachers gather and strip their wings and backs for their skins. While some visit to marvel, others invade to unravel, to poke and prod at the sacred maternal ritual of these beautiful but helpless creatures in the deepest throes of their life cyles. Clicking tongues and flashing lights and pointing, stroking fingers mar the night and morning with whispered awe and wonder, wanting to touch, wanting to see, wanting...more
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