It is quiet as I dip my head into the water; the entire world has been turned on mute. All I can hear is the rasping sound my snorkel makes as I breathe in and out. Perhaps it is because of the quiet that I feel completely alone, though I can see the ends of my brother’s flippers ahead of me.
Kicking softly, I scan the cool, silent world that lies below me, perfectly still. This place is sacred, I realize, and not meant for me. Never in my life have I viewed such stillness. The water has blurred the energy of movement; it has softened the bright colors of the tropical fish that belong here. It has made a cold and gentle place, a place where the world above the water fades away. It is perfect.
And then I see the turtle. She floats along ahead of me, her silhouette just visible through the dream-like blue of the water. Her movements are slow and suspended. As I watch her, it is impossible for me to believe that she exists in the world that I live in. I hurry and drift closer, drawn to her in a way I cannot describe. She continues on her way, serenely ignoring my fascination. Her eyes are deep and black and beautiful. They are wise and old eyes. Looking at them, I think that she knows a something about life that I will never fathom. A secret that will remain unknown to all but one silent Green Sea Turtle who has let me follow her.