Betrothed

I decided to explore “The Point” along the Mendocino headlands. After going through a narrow passageway canopied by brush, I arrived at a clearing. The courtyard-esqe opening was surrounded by trees and protected an inviting picnic table. A “doorway”—really just a space between two massive trees—beckoned me toward the light beyond it.

There the ocean swelled and frothed, throwing itself against the jagged bluff. And just outside the “door” a shrine to love was carved into a cypress trunk. Although I don’t advocate the marring of trees, the lovers had worked hard to cut deeply, implying permanence. A nearby plant illustrated this tightly bound love, its stars of rosette leaves interwoven like a tight basket against the harsh wind and salty spray.

As I moved on, hens-and-chicks, ice plants and other flora clung to rock faces in the desperate, tenacious way young lovers often embrace. A mussel shell lay open in the niche of a boulder, still joined at the hip; one side the mirror image of the other—inseparable.

Just before I circled back to the entrance, a dewdrop sparkled in the sun like an engagement diamond—a promise of unending love.

Although I am happily married, I also feel betrothed to God. I feel this love intimately, passionately, deeply, desperately, and surely—much like each aspect of my walk. Solitary strolls in nature enhance these feelings of love and connectedness to my Source. What connects you?

All photos © Sondra Sula.