Before I wind my way down a staircase of driftwood, a sparkling drop of dew catches my eye. Its tension creates an egg shape as it rests within a nasturtium-leaf nest. I am thankful for circular connection: dew, fog, cloud, rain, ocean.
I climb down the stairs to the beach and see another leaf. This one is as red as the nasturtium was green. Its stem has made a trail in the sand, moved by wind. Its path parallels a ribbon of flora from the sea. Can that which comes from the land and that which comes from the sea—so different—become traveling companions?
A bouquet of pink lace and olive twine presents itself arranged as beautifully as the most meticulous still life. God, when my life seems to be a tangled mess, remind me to take a step back to recognize the exquisite design.
Flat white seaweed conjures the image of a spine. God, give me the courage, the backbone, to do what’s right. Deep inside, I always know.
Kelp and seaweed join forces to create blossoming beach gardens. A bit abstract, but that’s where imagination comes in. I am grateful for creative minds that see beyond what eyes perceive.
A dachshund seaweed? Floppy ears, a long “body” and paddle-like paws scurry along the sand. Thank you, God, for just plain fun.
A rust and ochre leaf is laid out just above the surf line, accented with bits of ocean debris. The feeling is playful, like a Klee or Miro painting. God, help me to periodically recapture the carefree playfulness of a child, which can open the floodgates of creativity.
A few strides over, a pile of purple seaweed has been tossed onto the shore. The mass is inches from being reclaimed by the sea. Translucent “arms” reach out in every direction—does it yearn to be reunited with the source from whence it came? Do I?
I’ve reached the edge of the small swath of beach and turn around to see a broken leaf that resembles a headstone. Sand caught in its veins creates a tree shape. Symbols of life and death, endings and beginnings. Thank you, God, for every ending that is a new beginning. Amen.
All photos © Sondra Sula.
If you like these blogs, you’ll most likely enjoy my daily devotional book, Meditations on Mendocino by Sondra Sula. Available on Amazon in paperback or Kindle versions.
I know why aquariums give rise to relaxation—and it’s not just the tiny bubbles. Watching the undulating water tends to hypnotize one into a blissful, stress-free state. As I watched the lime tentacles of an anemone sway back and forth, all worry ceased.
A sea urchin cast an otherworldly purple haze. I fell under its spell.
Two sea stars hugged the glass, their tiny suction cups moving to the beat of an unseen underwater band. I felt myself oscillating despite my feet being planted solidly on the floor.
A pink-tipped sea anemone decked out in a textured turtleneck waved its arms to and fro to the rhythm.
“Shall we dance?” a snail seemed to suggest.
“I don’t mind if I do,” I said, surprising myself. My feet came unglued and I did a little twirl. When I finished, I was face to face with another anemone. Its tentacles shimmied and shook, albeit in slow motion.
I looked over at a red sea urchin. Its entire body was a series of exclamation points. I was reminded of the idea symbol—a light bulb with exclamatory lines emanating from it. The urchin confirmed my thought: wonder erases worry.
My husband hunts dinosaurs. He spends months digging in the dry, dusty ground to expose vertebrae, ribs, femurs, skulls, and if he’s lucky, an articulated skeleton. The work is thrilling, tedious and physical. A hat is his only shade and water must be carried in on his back.
My style of dinosaur hunting is a bit less intense. It involves finding artists’ sculptures of these fantastical creatures—the crazier the better. Vernal, Utah provided a plethora of possibilities from humorous to realistic.
The “terrible lizards” peeked around every corner; some smiling, some roaring.
One even seemed to be swimming through the air. A T. rex appeared to be bullying a triceratops, who wasn’t frightened in the least. A Rodney Dangerfield type—arms and claws extended—gave the impression of imploring an imaginary audience for respect.
A hefty stegosaurus and zebra-like who-knows-what created their own horizons against the sky.
Sondra Sula's Blog: The Nature of Spirituality 