I enter Jug Handle State Park and am almost immediately greeted by the handsome twinberry, aptly named because it usually blooms and fruits in sets of two. The flowers are not quite conjoined, yet share a bond of closeness. 
Next, I greet the wild currant, its flowers hiding under the umbrella of emerald leaves. Is it shy, or trying to hide its stash from the wrong pollinator? 
I emerge from a wooded area into an open field overlooking the Pacific. 
The tide is low, beckoning me to climb down and explore. But I know better than to heed this siren’s call. It is much too dangerous to traverse those slippery rocks. 
There is plenty to see above the sea, on the headlands. Yellow flowers crowd cheerfully around the base of a lone cypress. 
This particular tree has a low branch that serves as a perfect bench. I take a selfie there every year to record any changes in the tree or in myself. 
The field is replete with striking blossoms from daisies to Mendocino paintbrush. 
Footsteps of Spring remind me to tread lightly because so many of these plants are rare. 
I can barely go forward without having to stop and photograph a beautiful bud. This is one of the many reasons I walk alone — so I don’t irritate my companions who may want to walk briskly. 
There are few walks where I am not distracted by the marvelous gifts of creation. 
I am often crouched down with my nose practically touching the flora, in danger of keeling forward with my intensity of focus. 
This is why I rarely take photographs on the very edge of a cliff. 
I’ve looped around now, ready to make my way back to the car. 
But not before I notice a spectacular, though tiny, butterfly, the green hairstreak. Will she allow me to take her picture? When I do, I feel as though she’s looking right at me. In her eye I also see the eye of God. Creation has a way of doing that.
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.
Take a walk with me at Jug Handle State Natural Reserve. After we’ve ducked under Route 1 and descended a hundred steps, we’ll enter a boardwalk, shambly and mysterious. The Cloud of Unknowing. 
The boardwalk beckons. I have to duck under a fallen tree to enter. I know I can fall in love with what’s under the boardwalk, but I also know there’s plenty of fun to be had just looking over its sides.
Take, for instance, this easy-to-pass-by white flower. Look closely and each tiny bloom is an explosion of excitement.
Below the boardwalk a lazy creek meanders, reflecting the trees and sky above. Animal footprints dot the muddy shores. Moss creeps over fallen logs, intent on full coverage. An entire ecosystem thrives.
How do I thrive? By stopping to enjoy a cabbage butterfly as it rests momentarily on a leaf. By noticing a fallen pine cone’s perfectly pointed tip. By recognizing that black nightshade resembles shooting stars.
What makes you thrive? Beholding a flower? Immersing yourself in nature? Watching clouds pass by? Sitting in silence watching the stars? Listening to the laughter of someone you love? Seek out whatever it is—and then enjoy it. For it is your gateway to your own “boardwalk.”
Sondra Sula's Blog: The Nature of Spirituality 