I had heard whispers about Rekawa, a quiet stretch of beach far from the crowds, where ancient travelers still arrive under the cover of darkness. That night, guided only by starlight and the sound of waves, I joined a small group waiting patiently on the sand.
Hours passed. The ocean was restless, the sky heavy with stars. Then suddenly, out of the dark water, she appeared. A massive sea turtle, slow and steady, dragging herself onto the beach. I held my breath as she found her spot, dug carefully into the sand, and began her timeless ritual of laying eggs.
It was surreal. The crash of waves behind me, the glow of the moon on her shell, and the knowledge that this moment had been repeated here for thousands of years. I felt like a guest at a secret ceremony, privileged to witness it.
When she finally returned to the sea, leaving behind a hidden nest of new life, I felt an overwhelming sense of awe. Rekawa was not just a beach that night. It was a reminder of how wild and ancient Sri Lanka’s soul truly is.
Hours passed. The ocean was restless, the sky heavy with stars. Then suddenly, out of the dark water, she appeared. A massive sea turtle, slow and steady, dragging herself onto the beach. I held my breath as she found her spot, dug carefully into the sand, and began her timeless ritual of laying eggs.
It was surreal. The crash of waves behind me, the glow of the moon on her shell, and the knowledge that this moment had been repeated here for thousands of years. I felt like a guest at a secret ceremony, privileged to witness it.
When she finally returned to the sea, leaving behind a hidden nest of new life, I felt an overwhelming sense of awe. Rekawa was not just a beach that night. It was a reminder of how wild and ancient Sri Lanka’s soul truly is.
