The Art of the Walk

There are many spectacular vistas to behold when walking along the frilled edges of Noyo Headlands Park. Waves crash against craggy rocks jutting from the ocean like jagged teeth, creating explosive sprays of frothy white. Harbor seals wriggle onto flat swaths of rock to sun themselves next to barking sea lions. Motionless cormorants join them to dry their wings after diving so they can once again take flight.

Art is also abundant, not only in the intricately designed flora and fauna, but in the artisan chairs and mosaic-inspired benches. A marriage of creativity abounds, making clear that we are co-creators with The Divine. And as I welcome the invitation to sit and contemplate the vast glory before me, I am also drawn to what is right beside me.

I am seated on a massive driftwood bench, and just when I notice a flower proudly standing alone at the edge of a cliff, I hear a buzzing to my left and am delighted to observe the striped body and veined wings of a hoverfly.

Right after I catch sight of a field of wild radish flowers, I look down momentarily to discover the white saucer eyes of twin morning glories staring at me, a moth blocking their vision. A third flower is tightly twisted, its rose-colored bud waiting until tomorrow to unfurl.

As an artist, I like to think my most inspired work comes from God. When I allow myself to see the unity between handcrafted art and the natural world, I see design and composition everywhere I go.

All photos © Sondra Sula.

Why Bother?

“Sowthistle, Prairie Dock, Mullein” by Sondra Sula

These days I’ve been waking up and asking myself: why bother? Am I doing anything that’s actually contributing to the world? Does my life matter if I only touch a handful of people? Is my mere existence enough?

Whenever I ask these questions, God is quick to answer (if I bother to listen) that simply existing is plenty. I’m shown this over and over in nature. Do I ask a flower why it bothers to bloom? Do I demand it give me a reason for its existence? Yet when I behold its gracious petals, complex textures, and surprising colors I am stunned into silent worship. Am I not as precious as a flower, here today and gone tomorrow?

I decide I need a Gratefulness Walk. In less than an hour I pass five fabulous flowers that capture my attention and give me hope to meet the morning.

“Back-to-Back Sharing” by Sondra Sula

The first is a common sowthistle, its brilliant, shaggy petals radiating out like a glorious sun. Within the blossom’s central curly threads, a metallic green sweat bee is curving its body to glean what is necessary for its own absolutely worthwhile existence.

I then encounter the slender, fast-growing stalks of the prairie dock, already towering over the tall grasses. Their bulbous green, alien-like globules create expectations of bizarre-looking blooms, but the flowers are quite ordinary, mimicking yellow daisies. God already knows what’s wrapped up in my “package” and so there’s no room for disappointment as I bloom.

Moving farther down the path, a furry mullein catches my eye, and as I peer closer, I note its petals are subtly veined, like my skin. The entire lemon-hued cup is really one piece, and the sense that the petals are separated is only an illusion—a perfect illustration of my connection to God.

What’s this? From afar I see only a golden spray of petals, but as I venture closer, a bouquet of tiny blooms forms the center of this pale-leaved sunflower. A hoverfly, and a leaf-legged bug that hints at transformer capabilities, stand back-to-back willing to share their prize. I learn from their wisdom.

Before my walk ends, I spy an Echinacea pushing its prickly central whorl outward while its pale purple petals arc back as if pressed by wind. A minuscule particle of yellow pollen contrasts against the maroon and emerald spikes, drawing me in. Sometimes revealing the tiniest part of oneself is enough to offer to the world.

“Echinacea Pushing Forward” by Sondra Sula

Spider Versus Fly

“Spider Caught in the Act” by Sondra Sula

Flies are common. Flies are everywhere. Flies are a nuisance to people and animals. Flies often get caught in webs. In spider versus fly, spider almost always wins.

“Flies and Fleurs” by Sondra Sula

I like flies. They are amazingly varied, and yes, quite beautiful, even when I know what they’re up to—vomiting on my skin and whatnot. After all, flies are part of creation, and rather clever helpers in their larval stage. Maggots have been used in medicine for ages, and still are. They clean dead flesh from wounds quickly and efficiently without ever harming live tissue, and their saliva even has antibacterial properties. The deftest surgeon can’t trim with such magnificent precision.

“Fly, Fly Away” by Sondra Sula

A lowly fly may be no match against a spider that can build an elegant, gossamer web and patiently lie in wait for a dire judgment error. But until the fly is caught, trapped, and eaten, it can literally fly. It’s as free as the wind, can zoom anywhere it chooses, and alight on stationary or moving targets.

A spider can swing through the air tethered by its silk, but that only amounts to bungee jumping. It must crawl, hop, sway, or hitchhike to explore. A spider can also be squashed unintentionally, whereas a fly can outwit a swatting hand or rolled up newspaper quite effortlessly.

“Hoverfly on Yarrow” by Sondra Sula

I think I’ll stick with the humble fly. Perhaps I just feel more comfortable with wings.