A magnificent loggerhead turtle, Caretta caretta, had finished laying and now shovelled sand over its hundred-plus eggs. Shelly stared in awe. Keeping her distance, she crawled up the beach a few metres, then stretched out on her belly, supporting the camera with her elbows in the sand.

Glorious creature!

The turtle, over a metre in length and weighing two hundred kilos or more, pushed mounds of sand into the nest-hole. Without looking back, and leaving nothing but a gentle dip to tell of her activity, the creature, which remained unchanged since prehistoric times, started her solemn pageant towards the sea. The shell, which at first appeared dull and crusty, caught the amber light of dawn and shone like burnished jewellery. Dragging her enormous weight, the loggerhead left a second, heavily scalloped track on its return to a life under the waves.

When the turtle drew level, she seemed to notice Shelly for the first time. In three laboured steps, she turned and lumbered straight towards the camera. Shelly didn’t know what to do! To say she was breathless with excitement or fear sounded trite, but it was certainly true. She decided to keep photographing. The shutter clicked, obscenely loud in the silence. The closer the loggerhead came, the faster Shelly’s heart beat. When the creature filled the frame, she took a last shot then raised her head a little to gaze over the camera.

The turtle appeared sad with its turned-down mouth and tears spilling like molten gold in the rising sunlight, but she knew they were only salt secretions, expelled from seawater it had swallowed. The loggerhead peered at Shelly with round, ET eyes. She feared it would snap at her hand or face. The hard, bony mouth had jaws capable of crushing lobsters, hefty crustaceans . . . or her precious camera. The turtle, much heavier than her, could do serious damage if it felt endangered.

I’m not a threat to you or your eggs. Return to the deep, amazing turtle. Go in peace.

She fancied the turtle heard her thoughts. After a moment, the creature turned her head towards the waterline and the gathering light on the horizon. Shelly smiled and for a moment, tears pricked the backs of her eyes. Exhaustion, or perhaps pleasure, made the turtle pause when the first wave touched her front flippers.

‘Go, go!’ Shelly whispered. ‘Your work’s done here. Goodbye, old girl. Stay safe.’

She swiped away a tear.

Torn between racing back to her room to study the pictures or staying on the empty beach to enjoy the peace, an enormous sense of miracle filled her chest. She glanced back towards the nest site. The gentle basin and ribbon-loop of tracks in the sand led from the waterline to the base of the low, cement promenade and back again. They were clearly visible in the morning light. An open invitation to curious kids and egg hunters.