Jesse from the US, June 2009
That autumnal smell permeates the cool breezes of the bay. On the new park, the trees are already turning their leaves to pumpkin orange and fire red. And, from my bike I look over the Massachusetts Bay, yearning for my mornings on Kefalonia.
6:30 is early everywhere. But, it was my first day at the Katelios Group and I was awake and ready. Cecilia and I were already on our way, cycling through the picturesque villages of Mavrata and Thermanos. At the old church in Thermanos, we made our way down the old dirt roads that led to the sea. As we wound our way over the macadam cows and goats stared at the two odd folks riding their bikes through the pasture land just after the dawn.
At the
end of the bike-able trail, Cecilia led me to the edge and pointed
out Koroni beach. There the turquoise sea touched the sands of
Kefalonia. At this early hour the beach and the sea were left only
to Cecilia and me. The shift continued with a walk along the beach
and a kayak paddle past caves carved from the rock by the waves of
the Ionian Sea. Then, there was another beautiful beach to be walked
where the only visitors were the volunteers, a few beach drivers and
the occasional sheep or cow.
Constantly surrounded by the beauty of the island, somehow, the experience did not seem fair. On this beautiful isle, the land of Odysseus, you find the merging of perfection. The people in the group and I formed a solid bond in our united experience. We got to wander the rocky hills (and climb some dangerous spots we probably shouldn’t have). In our village we could connect with locals away from the tourists of the beaches.
And, yet,
none of the beauty, none of the camaraderie, none of the rest of the
experience matches with working with the turtles. Late at night,
alone on abandoned beaches with no one but your partner, you are the
frontline of research. You and your partner are able to touch and
feel and connect with the wild circle of life. Seeing one of the
reptiles crawl back to the sea and knowing you have done her some
good is something never to be replicated nor forgot.
I watch the harbor seals in the tank outside the Aquarium and only think of the turtles and dolphins swimming free. I smell the turning leaves and am reminded smells of sage wafting off Mt. Ainos. I look to the grey cold Massachusetts Bay and wish it to chromo-shift into the deep turquoise of the Ionian Sea. And, I yearn for the nights walking along Mounda Beach helping to save the turtles.