The Cave of Quietude – Keats
There is a sort of quiet happiness – The cave of quietude as Keats so elegantly puts it, a rather meditative sort of space where the soul expands. It is truly astonishing.
It happens when you are sitting and marveling at life – it could be on a beach like I did in Maui recently. A sort of reverent hush crept in – It was time for the sunset. The waves were calm and all around us were signs that we were meant to be peaceful with the Earth around us. The children and I went off on a little saunter to catch the sunset at a leisurely pace.
There, by a log of wood, I stopped short and said “Ooh – look somebody made a sea turtle out of rocks and sands!”
We had watched an instagrammer make a sand castle earlier, putting all amateur attempts to shame. So, I really thought it was another beach artist showing off their skills. (There are so many ways in which people are famous these days, it almost makes fame look normal.)
Aamai, Amul, Amulee
“Ummm – it looks like a real turtle to me!”, said the son, walking cautiously. But he also heard Maui’ian rules about keeping 10 feet from a turtle, so we settled on a log of wood conveniently placed 15-20 feet away to watch. Was it alive. Was it real. Thrilling questions for one on a sunset walk by the beach wouldn’t you agree?
We sat there and hoped it was real and alive. It would be such a tragedy if it weren’t. I sent a silent plea to the universe to let the turtle live long and prosper.
As though the turtle heard, it lazily opened its eyes and peered at us. A little lengthening of the neck – no exertions, no fuss. Then, determining that we were harmless souls, closed its eyes and went straight back to sleep. I cannot tell you what a scene like that does to one’s nerves. It calms and excites at the same time. In those quiet moments where brilliant life blends with peace coexistence, the soul expands.
We spoke in reverent whispers about myths and fables that humans have come up with to capture the lure and aura of these gentle creatures. Kurma Avatar (The way Lord Vishnu came to save Earth in the form of a turtle). I could understand it – they truly exude calm in a frenetic world. They made us saunterers stop, sit and take in the sunset, did they not?
“What should we name it?” I asked.
More hushed suggestions. “Amulee” – I said. “Aamai means turtle in Tamil, and this one is a very sweet one, so I like to call it Amulee.”
“Do you think it is a female?”
I confess turtle biology baffles me. So I threw my hands up. “Fine! Amul if male and Amulee if female. Happy?” I said smiling.
The turtle opened its eyes and craned its neck ever so slightly. I took it as a nod of approval, though it could possibly not have understood. Right? Sitting there though, I doubted it. Most creatures have shown themselves to be more brilliant than us – they learnt how to communicate us, while we did not do the same for other species. Apparently, cats only meow to communicate with humans – not amongst themselves. Dogs understand English and vernacular words to communicate with us. Dolphins too. These turtles have been around beach-goers all their lives, I would not be surprised at all.
Green Party
We sat there, and maybe it was the magic of seeing the turtle share the beach with us, but we saw some tiny streaks of apple green in the gorgeous sunset. Poets have written about it. I know L M Montgomery talks about apple green in the sunsets in her books – I thought they were a North Pole phenomenon. I have always felt a little off-kilter about the ways writers write about the brilliant streaks of color they see in eye colors and sunsets. But then, the daughter mentioned Green parties in their university – apparently, folks gather around at sunset and look for the streaks of green in the sunset.
This time, we did see it. Mild, and no darker than apple green, but still there. Amulee’s Green Party was a success.
The next morning, it had gone back into the ocean.
Nourish-n-Cherish 