A Walk in Nature

I followed the coastline from Coogee Beach southwards. It was the first time in a long while that I had taken the Council Boardwalk towards Maroubra. The ocean was gigantic and mysterious, holding its secrets from curious humans like me. I took a video of the majestic cliffs with white-topped waves roiling towards them. Wedding Cake Island was far away then came closer as I progressed along my path. I went further than I had for a long time but I didn’t make it to the Italian House, an elegant but worn castle in muted greys seated high on a cliff face like teacher’s pet.

There was a cool breeze blowing so I pulled my scarf close around my neck. A hawk-like bird soared on the wind currents then dived and rose again looking like a man-made artefact. Tiny blue wrens and black-and-white peewees watched me from the orange and green foliage along with indigenous species like wattle birds and noisy—muted here—miners. Some of the hardy coastal plants along the way seemed to be nodding towards me, especially the tallest leafy stalks.

I started to think about whether plants, like animals, possessed memory, and how the mystery of consciousness seemed to me to be the key to understanding differences between us, homo sapiens and them. For a long while, this idea has been following me and playing out in my dreams and in my writings. Like those obsessive motifs of sky walking that come and go, or the ones where I am trying to extract my body from a too tight garment and must ask for help from a friend.

It was starting to get colder and I knew i should turn back. I had the same walk in the opposite direction to navigate and my muscles were starting to ache. I must set out for home.

I rested on benches with memorials to people who had passed this way before and had loved the walks.

On the way back, I came across this philodendron leaf, peeping out through a slit in a frontyard fence.

I have always loved stripy leaves and I stopped to touch and photograph it. I wish now that I had taken a video of the little performance it put on for me.

First I ran my finger tips gently along its surface. After several seconds, it curled back along its length and did a little curtsy for me with its pointy end. I was gobsmacked. I had it repeat the act several times.

Tired by this time, I caught the bus, just two stops, back home.

I thought about how the present King of England, when he was Prince Charles, was criticised and ridiculed for his comments about “talking to plants” at Highgrove House. I’m not a monarchist but he got some things about the environment right, it seems. Today, the topic of plant consciousness has become normalised for many, some with academic qualifications.

Research into a certain consciousness linked to plants is being undertaken at universities in Australia. One woman in particular, Dr. Monica Gagliano from the University of Sydney, and now in Lismore (at Southern Cross University), is doing amazing work on how plants communicate with each other, with insects, and how they demonstrate awareness beyond our capacity to understand. See Wikipedia post on her.