“Here thirty years ago she broke from an egg beneath a full moon. Dozens of other inch-long hatchlings clambered around her, over her, all of them together pushing out of their sandy womb and scrambling with her down the beach, looking for the moon’s liquid reflection to direct them to the sea. Slower ones were snatched at daybreak by gulls and crabs. Those that made water’s edge surrendered themselves to currents that swept them in arcs and gyres out to the deep, into the path of diving seabirds and gliding sharks. Some escaped, and were entangled in fishing nets or plastic bags and six—pack rings… Few animals and no other turtles eat sponges, whose bodies are full of glass needles. Sponges starve corals. Cleaning them from the coral streets, hawksbills protect the sprawling city that shelters millions of creatures. Of every thousand hawksbill hatchlings, one will survive to breeding age.”
–Gayle Boss, Wild Hope, p. 102
