Petrified turtle egg
This item was a prize from the Hunt for History.
a petrified turtle egg
Small and misshapen from years of burial under sand and briny water, the egg features a bumpy surface mottled with brown along the cream patina. Polished to a high sheen, the oval more closely resembles a stone, much like one you might lying in a river bed or along the bottom of a creek.
As you put the egg to your ear, the soft sound of waves upon a beach echoes in your head. Lulled peacefully, you continue listening, the rustlings of the woods almost drowned out. Sudden war cries and keening wails vibrate within the egg, making you flinch as though in pain.
The first notes of your song reveal nothing more than pure darkness black as pitch, but as your tune escalates, your mind's eye adjusts. Comparable to entering a room that has been shut off from light, as you become accustomed to the illusion, details become revealed. Stars twinkle in a midnight sky void of a moon, and the susurrus of soft waves crashing against the shore develops with clarity.
Again, the notes you sing vibrate and your current surroundings dim. Your internal vision becomes rich and clear, the colors vibrant, even those of a somber range. A small cove, protected by twin fingers of rock that arc out like a giant pincher, is peaceful and quiet, caressed by a gentle breeze. What sounds like distorted louder waves crashing adjusts, and you recognize the distinct sound of something swimming towards the shore.
Your angle of view shifts with this refrain, no longer does the beach stretch out in long view, instead you gaze out over the ocean from the cover of the tree line. Dark, rounded forms on the water glisten as they breach the surface, then bob and move forward towards the pale stretch of sand.
A giant oval emerges at the edge and crawls slowly towards you, unaware of your observation. Two huge front flippers struggle and pull, leaving deep tracks as the creature moves to the upper portion, where it is safe from high tides. Digging slowly, the sea turtle carves a birthing pit in the sand to lay her clutch of eggs.
Your mind's eye quickly focuses on the scene again, more sea turtles also upon the shore and giving birth. Bi-pedal shapes along both sides of you rush the beach, war cries loud and with huge mallets raised. The sickening thuds echo as weapon meets flesh and shell, the blood of the sea turtles spilled upon the delicate white eggs that glisten iridescently in the moonless night. The remaining ocean creatures sense the danger and turn away quickly to dive back into the waiting waters, except for one lone female hiding in the shadow of the rocks, burying her efforts.
A sudden brightness appears, the vision causing you to wince slightly. You see the cove long eroded and changed, yet identifiable. A child wanders along the beach, bending down to examine stone and shell alike. Reaching the jagged rocks that once protected this place, he begins to search for a way to climb up, but a smooth, rounded object cresting the sand catches his eye. Tiny fingers reach out to probe, then begin to dig, revealing the first of many petrified sea turtle eggs, perhaps offering a clue as to why this particular land was named Turtle Egg Island.