We went for a six-mile walk today through my beautiful cloudy city down to see my favorite artist Andy Goldsworthy’s Spire and then followed the Ecology Trail through the Presidio past folks who smiled greetings, dogs that panted for attention, and children who ran shouting by.
Walking through the park it seems unbelievable that it was built by the US Army, transforming acres of sand dunes into forest as a subtle show of military power. Although the hundred-year old non-native eucalyptus and Monterey cypress were planted in regimented rows, the park reminds me less of the army and more of the story of the Prophet, peace and blessings upon him, holding stones in his hand which were revealed to be singing the praises of God.
All of creation resounds with praise for Him, had we but ears to hear or eyes to see. One of the reasons I like Goldsworthy is because he has the gift of sight. His art is usually made from found, natural objects and is often ephemeral, with decay built into its life cycle – as it is built into ours.
Seeing the Spire standing tall amongst the field of seedlings that will one day obscure it, or watching the extraordinary documentary about Goldsworthy called Rivers & Tides [excerpt], I am reminded of how little I really see of the natural world around me, or the signs (ayats) embedded within them.
As I walk through the Presidio, my steps and breathing slow, I hear the eucalyptus trunk creak in the wind, and see everything from the grasstips to the tree tops bow in humility and grace. How can I become a part of this homage?
Looking up, the trees heave in the wind above as if breathing, reflecting the rise and fall of my chest, and the expansion and contraction of the sea in the distance.
We are all connected, had I but eyes to see, and tongue to praise.
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