Ode to the Ordinary

Old logging roads form a number of trails near the place I now call home. They are used by hikers, joggers, ATV enthusiasts, mountain bikers, dog walkers, equestrians—you name it. Some of the roads get plenty of traffic, while others are nearly forgotten. But all of them have gifts to offer.

I could tell the road I selected was a lesser-traveled choice—perhaps because the initial phase was a steep ascent. Eventually it flattened out into a narrower, unkempt trail. And it wasn’t showy. It didn’t follow a creek or pass by a waterfall.

Even so, it did offer up a few ripe thimbleberries, which I’d describe as tasting like raspberries with the tiniest hint of vanilla. One of the round, red berries displayed a curiously designed flying insect whose pattern I likened to an African mask.

The sun shone through tips of prickly thistles, curvy-edged leaves and the fuzzy hairs fringing dried Scotch broom pods. Although these plants are quite ordinary on the northern California coast, the strong light gave me the feeling that they were extraordinary.

That feeling of specialness extended to the debris I encountered, too. An exhaust pipe looked as if it were sneaking into the woods to reunite with its muffler. A perforated piece of rusty metal brought garden-row order to the chaos of emerging seedlings. And a cobra-like bungee cord, caught mid slink, gave off an air of regalness despite its current state of being trod upon.

Not every part of our journey requires the “wow” factor. Sometimes the smallest, most ordinary aspects of our lives sustain us when we consider them in a new light.

All photos © Sondra Sula.