It was a weekend intended for surfing with friends.
But on the Sunday morning, we had the rare opportunity to join the volunteers of Zambales to set free the five rescued turtles of different species. Some of them have been injured, but already recovered, and must be taken back to their natural home.
Everyone in that resort was out, witnessing how they were taken from their recovery ponds to the beach for tagging before being release into the open sea.
Maybe it was the setting – the waves were pretty wild and it was drizzling. But as they were taken farther and farther from the shore, somehow I felt like going, losing or maybe missing something. It has stricken me so much that I sobbed – not in a simple teary-eyed way, but the cry as if someone so dear to me is going away and I can’t join. I felt this strong awakening of the urge to drift away.
As if the sea spoke to me.
And so I heeded.