False crawls

My brother captures photos of peaceful sunrises and other phenomena on his early beach walks. I love that he has this time to himself to soak in tranquility.

This particular morning he was the first human to arrive on the scene of a unique event in nature. A sea turtle had come ashore to nest, but changed direction, yielding what is called a false crawl.

Sea turtles move effortlessly in water but lumber on land. Flippers meant for swimming move through sand laboriously, scooping deep patterns as they go. The flippers make patterns that identify the type of turtle trudging upland to deposit its clutch of eggs. This is the only dedicated act of parenting by sea turtles. After the clutch is deposited in a hole that they dig in the sand, they are done. The exhausted turtle returns to the sea, allowing the whims of nature to take over the eggs’ fate.

With all the work involved in getting to the right spot, why would a turtle not finish the job? Some of the reasons are obvious and others remain a mystery. I think it is a misnomer since the crawling part was very real. We call the crawl “false” in that no nest was made. I imagine the turtle saying to itself, if it could, “Isn’t that just like a human to think that because a result didn’t meet their expectations, the whole event was false! I am responsible for the survival of this species and I know what I am doing. Why don’t you do a better job of ensuring the survival of your own?”

My preacher/writer brain loves metaphors. I began to wonder about the “false crawls” we make in our lives and what lessons we can learn from them.

Back to the turtles. One obvious impediment to egg laying is beach trash. While the turtles have some amazing internal GPS to get back to where their own lives began, it does not account for the junk people leave on the beach: furniture, children’s toys, tents and big holes. Turtles do not have a reverse gear. They have to turn around. I am very grateful for all those who make it their mission on their daily walks to pick up debris and fill in holes.

Another way humans interfere is with artificial light. Hopefully, you have noticed conscientious home and business owners who turn lights off or use the special red ones on the beach. Sharktooth hunters who wear headlamps in the dark, this means you. You could be part of the problem.

Regular beachgoers notice that the beach changes all the time. Erosion, sand that is too wet or too dry, or other natural obstacles like roots can interfere with egg laying. Natural instinct is strongly urging turtles to lay their eggs, so they will try again, often in the same or a nearby place. If you encounter these tracks, best to leave them alone for later documentation by experts.

Our society is very goal-oriented. We meet someone new and ask, “What do you do?” It is as if accomplishment or position defines a person’s identity. We don’t talk about our false crawls — the paths we embark on but do not take to fruition for a variety of reasons. We think of them as failures instead of learning from them. Is it possible that some of the obstacles we encounter are for our own good? We can be not as intuitive as turtles at attending to our internal warning signals. We have those tiny hairs standing up on the back of our necks that say, “Don’t walk. Run away.” We can be our own worst enemies. We butt our heads against the same wall instead of turning around to try again another day in another way.

Sometimes, we listen to that internal GPS or breath of the divine spirit or whatever you want to call it that stops us in our tracks. We change course. We find ourselves on the path to a whole different outcome than we could have anticipated.

One of my all time favorite poets is Robert Frost. You may have memorized his famous poem, “The Road Not Taken” in school. We know how it begins: “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood ... ” And how it ends: “… and that has made all the difference.”

I bring your attention to the two stanzas in the middle, which apply to this topic.

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

Pay attention to your false crawls. Let them teach you. Guide you. Lead you.