Intermission

Today is Good Friday, a day I normally spend hours upon hours in various churches. I thought about my recent visit to the Mendocino Presbyterian Church, which hosts many cultural events in its adjacent building, Preston Hall. I was there to hear a trio of musicians and walked outside during intermission.

The small area around the church was festooned with flowers—large and small. Purple buds flung themselves wildly about on wiry stalks looking alien-esque against a whitewashed wall.

Tiny clumps of flowers beckoned me closer to see their detailed petals and smell their subtle fragrance.

I heard the shuffle of feet, the rustle of clothing rubbing against limbs. Intermission was almost over. I looked down to see a fiery orange blossom dying on the pavement. Although its life was short, its striking death brought undue pleasure.

Hurrying back, I almost tripped over a geranium whose hairy stem had reached beyond its garden boundary to caress my ankle. I stopped and noticed how the emerald leaves had ruffled red edges. The entire plant seemed to glow from within.

Before I reentered the hall, a pot of pink and yellow tulips shouted: Easter! I suddenly realized that Good Friday was just the intermission.

All photos © Sondra Sula.

Human/Nature

“Beginning and End” by Sondra Sula

As much as I love the idea of pristine nature, untouched by humans, finding such a place in Aurora, Illinois, is unlikely. Almost all the trails I walk on were planned. They were designed and cleared by people, and then mulched, graveled or paved by yet more people. Deer trails are often impassable unless we use them on a regular basis, continually breaking off twigs and such at human eye level.

“Dropped Rose” by Sondra Sula

In this day and age, untraveled areas are unexplored for several reasons: too remote, too extreme, or too dangerous. Perhaps I needed to learn to further appreciate images that reflect the intersection between humans and nature. I took my walk with that in mind.

In less than five minutes I came to a tree trunk and decaying maple seedpod covered with a man-made orange spray. I may not have noticed this lovely composition had it not been so bright. I snapped the rose photo realizing it would not exist if a person hadn’t dropped or discarded that rose along the gravel path. And finally, asphalt and rock paths brought a feather, flower, and fruit to center stage (along with part of a stuffed animal.)

When I feel blessed and inspired on these Gratefulness Walks, I should remember to give thanks for all those souls who made it possible via their hard work (or even their carelessness.)

“Human Nature” by Sondra Sula