At first the zebra seemed unreal—like a tongue-in-chic faux fur chair. Its stripes shouted: op art!
When another wandered up to join it I snapped a photo. The two heads seemed to merge into one, continuing the otherworldly feeling.
One of the creatures turned, and its ear suddenly looked like a horn—a zebra unicorn!
Riding in an antique jeep along a rutted road fed into the feeling that I was on safari.
As I looked out at a herd of antelope, I even saw isolated trees, tall dry grass and dusty patches of dirt reminiscent of the African veldt.
But the continuous biting wind and dream-like fog presenting itself in the dead of summer reminded me I was on the Mendocino coast at the B Bryan Preserve in Point Arena. And I wasn’t exactly on safari—I was merely viewing these hoofed African mammals, some of which are endangered, from a safe distance. The goal of the preserve is to breed, study and conserve these precious animals. Although I yearned to interact with them, it simply wasn’t prudent, nor allowed.
Until we reached a group of Rothschild’s giraffes and I was given a handful of sweet potato slices to feed them. As I put a slice in my mouth and was “kissed” by my first giraffe, I felt a spiritual connection. Imagination had merged with reality and the result was an ecstatic thrill. How can harnessing our imaginations enhance our spiritual lives?
All photos © Sondra Sula.
My feelings about taxidermy aside, there is definitely something fascinating about walking among once-wild creatures. They are museum displays, not allowed to be touched, but my eyeballs are caressing their patterned fur, gliding up their twisted horns and nuzzling their textured noses. I imagine them snorting hot breath from their n0strils.
Most of these animals were most likely from zoos, and unless I was to work at one, or a similar institution, I would never have the chance of a close encounter. If I did see one of these beasts in the wild, my affectionate feelings towards it would vanish instantly and be replaced by fear or trepidation. I like the idea of intimacy, but not its reality.
This paradox parallels my feelings about God. I want to be so close that we meld together, and in essence, I know this is already true. However, there is a terrifying aspect of being that vulnerable, hollowed out, emptied, to then be filled with something new and inexplicable.
Knowing that I will be consumed causes this hesitancy. And yet, here, among the hollowed out, immortalized beasts I am safe. How much safer am I within the embrace of God?
All photos © Sondra Sula.
Sondra Sula's Blog: The Nature of Spirituality 