I was born in a city surrounded by water—a river and two bays. And just beyond Fall River, Massachusetts, was the wild and tempestuous north Atlantic Ocean. I’ve spent almost my entire life living near large bodies of water, so it makes sense I would end up on the Mendocino coast.
I was never one for flat, endless beaches of pristine sand; I felt more at home among craggy rocks and fistfuls of seaweed.
I now live near verdant stretches of land that end unexpectedly, overhanging hard-to-reach beaches.
Beautiful butterflies float near the frightening edges
and metallic green sweat bees plunder pulchritudinous posies poking up along precipices.
Mendocino paintbrush dab orange onto a vast landscape encompassing the blue beyond.
This is my home now; this is where I’ve pounded in my stakes.
Where I have been called to grow and bloom in any circumstance.
Photos © Sondra Sula.
Take a walk with me by reading my most recent daily devotional book, Meditations on Mendocino by Sondra Sula. Available on Amazon in paperback or Kindle versions.
If you’d prefer a daily river walk, Reflections on the Fox River and Beyond by Sondra Sula, might just be the book for you.
As Rob and I drove over Big River Bridge, I noticed the sand bar below had shimmied over the river mouth to allow non-Wellington walking along the shoreline.
When we reached the beach, we split up because I wanted to explore the north end and he was drawn to the south. I came across a variety of objects that tickled my fancy: a fine-edged feather, a curiously curled leaf and a crab carapace.
As I ventured further I noted a recently fallen pine juxtaposed with paw prints—most likely a dog. I followed the base of the rocky bluffs and came to a smooth sand cove showcasing stubby, polished pieces of driftwood. A mussel shell poised in mid-clap revered a massive horizontal tree trunk.
A twisted branch in the sand reminded me how our environment can shape us. I’m being shaped by the scenery here—letting each wave of beauty wash over me in a never-ending motion. My rough edges are being polished.
I rejoined Rob. He had made new furry friends. I frolicked with an Australian Shepherd mix and as we played fetch with seaweed, we came across a dozen roses in the sand. We both stopped to smell them. The blooms confirmed I am on the “Path of Flowers”—a path God set me upon years ago that is coming to fruition. To which path have you been called?
Sondra Sula's Blog: The Nature of Spirituality 