The Finger Lakes region, renowned for its natural beauty and changing seasons, put on a stunning performance on October 24, 2024. From the vibrant reds of a Japanese maple (Acer palmatum) to the golden hues of oak leaves (Quercus spp.), this photographic journey through our home captures the essence of autumn in upstate New York.
A Panoramic Tapestry
In the first photograph, the landscape unfolds like a watercolor painting. Hills dressed in fiery oranges and golds stretch across the horizon, with hints of evergreen pines (Pinus spp.) providing contrast. The sky, dotted with wispy clouds, serves as a serene backdrop, while the foreground frames the scene with bare tree limbs—a reminder that autumn is both a celebration of life and a prelude to winter’s dormancy. This image evokes a sense of timelessness, connecting us to the rolling hills that have witnessed countless seasons of change.
View from our porch across Ithaca to East Hill, Cornell University, Ithaca Falls on an October 2024 afternoon. Tompkins County, Finger Lakes Region, New York State
Japanese Maple: A Crimson Jewel
The next series of images focuses on the Japanese maple (Acer palmatum), a tree whose vibrant red foliage becomes a magnet for admiration in autumn. One close-up reveals delicate leaves, their intricate lobes illuminated by the afternoon sun. The interplay of light and shadow transforms each leaf into a tiny stained-glass window. Another photograph showcases the tree in its entirety, a commanding presence against the verdant lawn. It is a poignant reminder of nature’s artistry, where every branch and leaf contributes to the symphony of color.
Firebush and Japanese Maple in autumn colorsJapanese maple leaves and samara in autumn colors. From our yard October 2024Japanese maple leaves and samara in autumn colors. From our yard October 2024
Home Amid the Foliage
Nestled within this autumnal palette is our home, a mid-century structure that seems almost inseparable from its surroundings. The expansive lawn, a lush carpet of green, contrasts with the fiery colors of nearby oak (Quercus spp.) and maple trees (Acer spp.). In one angle, the house appears almost tucked away, sheltered by Eastern Hemlock (Tsuga canadensis) and junipers (Juniperus spp.) that add a sense of permanence to the scene. This juxtaposition of human habitation and natural splendor underscores how our lives are intertwined with the land we call home.
Our oak trees in autumn colors
Oak Leaves: A Study in Texture
A close-up of oak leaves (Quercus spp.) showcases their rugged beauty, with jagged edges and deep veins that seem etched by time itself. Their colors—ranging from deep amber to burnished copper—are a testament to the richness of autumn’s palette. These leaves, clinging tenaciously to their branches, remind us of resilience and the fleeting beauty of the season.
Our oak tree in autumn colors. Helmock backdrop
Hydrangeas in Transition
The hydrangea bushes (Hydrangea paniculata) by the house present a softer side of autumn. Their once-vivid blooms have faded to pastel pinks and creams, lending an air of nostalgia. These flowers, in their gentle decline, mirror the transition of the season, where vibrancy gives way to a quieter beauty. The hydrangea blooms seem to whisper the story of the summer past, offering a delicate contrast to the bolder hues of the surrounding trees.
Our oak tree in autumn colors. Pam’s hydrangia.
The Resilient Shrubs
Creeping Juniper (Juniperus horizontalis), here in the foreground, provides a grounding element in the composition, with a steadfast green the reminder of life persisting even as deciduous leaves fall. The dense shrubbery near the house creates a protective cocoon, framing the building with a sense of natural security. The dynamic interplay between these evergreens and the changing foliage of maples and oaks reflects the layered complexity of this landscape.
Reflections on an Afternoon
As I wandered through these scenes with camera in hand, I was struck by the interplay of light, color, and texture. Each photograph captures a fleeting moment, a slice of a season that, despite its predictability, never fails to surprise and inspire. Autumn in the Finger Lakes is a time of reflection, a reminder to pause and appreciate the world around us.
These images, taken on a single afternoon, tell a story of a landscape alive with color and character. From the steadfast junipers to the delicate hydrangea blooms, from the fiery maples to the enduring oaks, they invite us to celebrate not just the beauty of nature but also our place within it—a home nestled among trees that have stood for decades, witnessing the rhythms of the earth.
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Copyright 2024 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills
I had a haunting experience at Cocoa Beach, witnessing a rare fogbow—a ghostly arc formed by fine mist—evoking emotions and reflections on nature’s beauty.
The fog haunted Cocoa Beach for days, softening the edges of the afternoon. I had been walking along Cocoa Beach, feeling the cool ocean breeze on my face, when I noticed a change in the light. It was a little after four, the sun drifting lower in the western sky, its warmth fading into a hazy glow. The air smelled of salt and mist, and waves lapped gently at the shore, their rhythm unbroken by the deepening fog.
And then I saw it.
A pale arc stretched across the horizon, a ghost of a rainbow bending above the waves. At first, I wondered if my eyes were playing tricks on me—where were the usual bright bands of red, orange, and violet? But no, the arc was real, a fogbow, forming where sunlight met the fine sea mist. Unlike the rainbows that appear after summer storms, this one was almost entirely white, as if the ocean had conjured it from air and silence.
Sailors once whispered of such things—a white rainbow at sea, a sign of hidden land or wandering souls. Some believed it to be a bridge between realms, a fleeting passage where the living and the lost might momentarily brush against one another. Others saw it as an omen, a spectral warning of treacherous fog ahead. I wondered what the mariners of old might have thought, standing at the bow of a ship, watching a pale arc rise from the mist, its edges dissolving like breath against glass.
I stood still, watching, as the science of the moment unfolded before me. Unlike traditional rainbows, which form when light bends through large raindrops, fogbows are born from infinitesimally smaller droplets, often less than 0.1 millimeters in diameter. Their size diffuses the light, scattering it so finely that the colors blend together into a spectral whisper rather than a vibrant shout. The physics of it fascinated me—this was diffraction in action, nature bending light in a way that rendered it nearly colorless.
The effect was surreal. The fogbow arched over the breaking waves like something out of a dream, a halo of sea and sky, momentary yet timeless. It seemed to pulse in the shifting mist, visible one moment, fading the next, as if deciding whether to reveal itself fully or slip back into the fog’s embrace.
For several minutes, I just stood there, taking it in. The world felt different inside that mist, quieter, more reflective. The fog dampened the usual sounds of the beach—the calls of shorebirds, the laughter of distant walkers—leaving only the hush of the waves and the distant hum of the ocean’s breath.
I knew that fogbows were rare, requiring just the right balance of thin fog, moisture, and a low-angled sun. I was lucky to be in the right place at the right time, a witness to something subtle yet profound.
And just as silently as it had appeared, the fogbow began to dissolve. The mist thickened, swallowing its arc, the sky shifting back to its usual muted gray. But the memory of it lingered—a white rainbow over the sea, ephemeral and elusive, like a secret the ocean had briefly chosen to share.
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The evening ebb tide had left behind more than just a fresh line of seaweed and broken shells. As I walked along Cocoa Beach, the cool sand beneath my feet, a small shape caught my eye near the water’s edge. At first, it looked like detritus tossed ashore by the restless ocean. But as I stepped closer, I saw the unmistakable outline of a shark—its pale, twitching body lay on the damp sand.
Stopping to bend and examine it, my breath caught as I recognized its flattened, shovel-shaped head. This was a bonnethead shark (Sphyrna tiburo), one of the smallest members of the hammerhead family. Its eyes, positioned far apart on either side of its head, stared blankly at the sky. A thin film of seawater still clung to its sleek, streamlined body, reflecting the golden light of the rising sun.
Its scientific name, Sphyrna tiburo, reveals much about its nature and form. Sphyrna comes from the Greek σφῦρα (sphyra), meaning “hammer,” a fitting reference to the distinct shape shared by all hammerhead sharks. The species name, tiburo, is thought to have originated from an indigenous or Spanish term for small sharks found in the Caribbean and Gulf of Mexico. Together, these words encapsulate the bonnethead’s identity—a hammer-shaped predator of the shallow seas, yet one that stands apart from its larger, more formidable relatives.
Named for its distinctive cephalofoil—the flattened, bonnet-like shape of its head—Sphyrna tiburo plays an essential role in maintaining the balance of marine ecosystems. As a mid-level predator, it helps regulate populations of crabs, shrimp, and small fish, preventing any one species from overpopulating and disrupting the delicate food web. Unlike most sharks, the bonnethead is also partially omnivorous, consuming seagrass along with its usual diet of crustaceans and mollusks. This unique feeding behavior contributes to the health of seagrass beds, which serve as crucial habitats for many marine creatures.
Bonnetheads are harmless to humans, known for their non-aggressive nature and their surprising diet—unlike most sharks, they eat not just crustaceans and fish, but seagrass as well. Gentle foragers of the shallows, they are common in Florida’s coastal waters, where they glide just beneath the surface, their unique head shape helping them detect prey buried beneath the sand.
But this one would swim no more. It was too late. Whether it had fallen victim to a fisherman’s discarded catch, an injury, or something unseen—disease, pollution, or fluctuating ocean temperatures—it was impossible to tell. All I knew was that this creature, so perfectly adapted to the rhythms of the sea, had been cast ashore by forces beyond its control.
A wave surged forward, washing over the shark’s still body, as if the ocean itself fruitlessly nudged it to life. The rising tide swirled, lifting the bonnethead and carrying it back into its world.
As I stood watching the tide pull it away, I felt a strange mix of sorrow and reverence. The sea is full of life, but it also takes life in its endless cycle. The bonnethead had played its part in that vast, unknowable story.
And now, it was gone.
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Copyright 2025 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills
Arcosanti, envisioned by Paolo Soleri, exemplifies sustainable urban living but faces challenges in realization, scalability, and contemporary relevance.
Arcosanti, the brainchild of architect Paolo Soleri, was conceived as an experimental laboratory for urban design and ecological principles—a built embodiment of his vision of Arcology (a fusion of “architecture” and “ecology”). Over fifty years since its groundbreaking in 1970, Arcosanti remains a significant cultural and architectural artifact. However, the meaning and relevance of both Arcosanti and Arcology in today’s context invite critical examination.
The accompanying photographs are a presentation of the history of Arcology from Arcosanti signage
Arcosanti 5000 — Soleri’s Ultimate Vision
Historical Context and the Vision of Arcology
Soleri’s concept of Arcology emerged during the mid-20th century, an era of increasing environmental awareness, urban sprawl, and population growth. His vision was radical: compact, self-sustaining urban environments that minimized ecological impact while fostering human interaction and creativity. Arcology sought to challenge the sprawling, resource-intensive models of urban development that dominate the modern world.
Today’s population of the Earth is about 5 billion people. By the year 2050 the population of the Earth will be 10 billion people.* With the same human condition of today and the same stresses imposed on the biosphere, there would be the need for 2 Earths.
Since the American Dream society has an average per capita “consumption” about 20 times the average per capita consumption of the whole human society, for the 10 billion people of the year 2050 to be “elevated” to the American Dream’s affluence level, there would be the need of 2 x 20 = 40 Planet Earths.
Assuming that by then we all will be twice as efficient in our production-consumption-gratification pursuits, we would need only 19 more planets. Where are we going to get 19 additional Planet Earths?
The American Dream physically embodied in the single-family house has to be scrapped and reinvented in terms which are coherent with the human and biospheric reality.
Toward a Possible Resolution
Only a true, lean urbanization strung along a highly efficient, i.e., frugal logistical grid combining superconductivity-maglev transportation of people and freight, viaducts, aqueducts, power grids, sewage and solid waste grids, etc., compensating for the loss of consumption-gratification unlimited by the way of an intense social, convivial, natural, esthetic, productive, sane life; only such novel structure will be able to translate the American Dream into a democratic, planetary reality.
The alternative, to persist in the dying American Dream, is a planetary-human catastrophe.
The subject matter of this exhibit is about one aspect of the possible resolution. It would couple indissolubly the well-being of Homo sapiens, 10 billion of us, with the well-being of the only planet we can inhabit for the time being.
All statistics based on 1993 United Nations data cited by the Worldwatch Institute.
(signed) Paolo Soleri
Arcosanti was intended to be a prototype—a proof of concept for dense urban living within a minimal environmental footprint. Its design embraced verticality, integration with natural surroundings, and multi-use spaces to reduce resource consumption. Soleri’s philosophy rejected wasteful consumerism and emphasized communal living, self-sufficiency, and harmony with nature.
Arcosanti as a Realization of Arcology
While Soleri’s ideas were visionary, Arcosanti itself never fully realized its original ambitions. Planned to house 5,000 people, it currently accommodates fewer than 100 residents. This gap between aspiration and reality reflects several challenges:
Paolo Soleri had established his residence and studios in Paradise Valley, Arizona, before he embarked on developing alternative urban theories. Although the Cosanti structures are small, Soleri experimented with various innovative construction techniques, including silt casting, to demonstrate effective use of building materials. His imaginative forms were adapted to the desert environment, and Cosanti became the exploratory launching pad for the Arcosanti project.
Scale and Funding: Building a sustainable community of this scale required vast financial and organizational resources. Arcosanti, largely constructed through volunteer labor and workshops, lacked the momentum to expand at the pace Soleri envisioned.
Upon completion of his theoretical work MESA CITY, whose purpose was the quest for an environment in harmony with man, Soleri established the Cosanti Foundation, a non-profit educational foundation. He was determined to continue his investigations into more efficient urban systems. To demonstrate his theories, Soleri proposed an urban-scale community MACRO COSANTI, envisioned for Arizona high desert.
Cultural Shifts: The communal living and austerity championed by Soleri contrast sharply with the consumer-driven values of contemporary society. The rise of globalized capitalism, suburban expansion, and digital individualism has made the communal ethos less appealing to many.
The term ARCOLOGY was coined to describe a series of urban designs for ecologically sound human habitats, as elaborated in “The City in the Image of Man,” published by MIT Press. This thesis outlines the concept of ARCOLOGY and its design variations for different settings. ARCOSANTI was introduced as the last (30th) example of this exercise, and originally planned to house a relatively small population of 500. The physical construction of ARCOSANTI began in 1970.
Technological Advances: Soleri’s designs were innovative for their time, but modern advancements in sustainable technology—such as solar power, green building materials, and decentralized energy systems—have surpassed some of his ideas. Today, sustainable urbanism focuses on retrofitting existing cities rather than building entirely new ones.
The Relevance of Arcology Today
Despite its limitations, Arcology remains profoundly relevant in the face of 21st-century challenges such as climate change, resource scarcity, and urban overpopulation. Soleri’s principles offer a framework to address these crises, particularly through:
The Xerox Corporation sponsored a major Soleri exhibition featuring a series of new arcology designs that suggested a sustainable urban habitat employing alternative energy sources. The project was called “TWO SUNS ARCOLOGY: The Cities Energized by the Sun.” The Arcosanti master plan went through a major overhaul reflecting this methodology. In the following year, PLANT SHOW venues gave Soleri additional funding to update the Arcosanti design. The projected population was increased to 5,000.
Compact Urbanism: Cities worldwide are grappling with the environmental toll of urban sprawl. Arcology’s emphasis on vertical, compact cities with reduced land usage aligns with the modern push for urban densification.
Ten years into the construction of the first prototype arcology, a developmental adjustment was made in order to gain momentum for the project. The CRITICAL MASS concept was introduced as an incremental phase to house 10 percent of the projected population of 5,000. A series of small-scale structures providing various amenities was designed to support a viable community, a critical population of 500 people. This would hopefully function as a springboard to the next major step, the completion of Arcosanti.
Mixed-Use and Communal Spaces: The COVID-19 pandemic underscored the importance of walkable, mixed-use neighborhoods and shared green spaces. Arcology’s model of integrated living and working spaces anticipates these needs.
Sustainability and Circular Systems: Soleri’s focus on minimizing waste and resource use aligns with today’s circular economy principles. Arcology’s ideas resonate with efforts to design cities as closed-loop systems that reuse resources.
The apse initiative was a result of an expanded version of the Third Generation Arcology using Soleri’s signature forms: Apse and Exedra. This initiative suggests possible solutions to the existing urban renewal opportunities (Presidio, Stapleton, Phoenix, and Hanover Expo 2000) as well as hypothetical rural development opportunities. ARCOSANTI 2000 consists of 3 major units. The design was modified later with an addition of SUPER CRITICAL MASS (THE WAVES), three superstructure apses combined and placed behind Critical …
A Philosophical Challenge: Beyond practical urban design, Arcology challenges us to rethink our relationship with the planet and with each other. It invites a fundamental shift from individualistic consumption to collective stewardship.
Critique of Arcosanti Today
Arcosanti, while iconic, serves more as a symbol than a fully functioning example of Arcology. Its limited population and incomplete development highlight key shortcomings:
Lack of Scalability: Arcosanti has not demonstrated how Arcology principles can scale to meet the needs of modern cities with millions of inhabitants.
ARCOSANTI 5000
2001 – present
Developed from the SUPER CRITICAL MASS in ARCOSANTI 2000 with the design elements of NUDGING SPACE ARCOLOGY added, ARCOSANTI 5000 features seven phases of truncated superapse structures. It re-establishes the macro nature of this prototype arcology for 5,000 people. This design is still in development, waiting on the architectural and structural resolutions.
Dependence on External Systems: Despite its aspirations for self-sufficiency, Arcosanti relies on external power grids, supply chains, and tourism, which limits its autonomy.
Cultural Niche: Arcosanti appeals primarily to a niche audience of artists, architects, and environmentalists, making it less accessible or appealing to broader populations.
However, these critiques do not negate its value as a learning tool. Arcosanti’s enduring presence serves as a physical and philosophical case study for those seeking alternatives to conventional urbanism.
A Way Forward?
The future of Arcology lies not in building new Arcosanti-like prototypes but in applying its principles to existing cities and communities. Initiatives such as urban vertical farming, passive solar building design, and car-free city centers echo Soleri’s vision in modern contexts.
Additionally, Arcosanti itself could pivot toward becoming a research hub for sustainable practices, a cultural landmark, or a retreat for those seeking inspiration in Soleri’s ideas. By focusing on education and experimentation, it could remain relevant in contemporary discussions about urbanism and ecology.
Conclusion
Arcosanti and Arcology are more than relics of a bygone architectural movement—they are reminders of humanity’s potential to live in balance with nature. While the practical implementation of Arcology faces significant hurdles, its core philosophy continues to inspire efforts to create more sustainable and harmonious urban environments. In a world increasingly shaped by environmental urgency, Soleri’s vision holds lessons we cannot afford to ignore.
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Copyright 2024 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills
Walking along the shoreline of Cocoa Beach in the early morning light, I encountered a remarkable sight—a Nine-armed Sea Star (Luidia senegalensis) sprawled on the damp sand. Its long, slender arms stretched outward in a perfect starburst pattern, each limb tapering to a fine point. The sandy beige coloration of its body blended with the surrounding beach, accentuated by a darker stripe running down the center of each arm. Scattered around it were small shells and fragments, remnants of the ocean’s ebb and flow, testifying to the high tide that had deposited this fascinating creature ashore.
The scientific name Luidia senegalensis provides insight into the taxonomy and classification of this intriguing sea star. The genus Luidia is named after the 18th-century Portuguese naturalist Francisco Luid, who contributed significantly to marine biology. The species name senegalensis refers to its first recorded discovery along the coast of Senegal in West Africa. As a member of the phylum Echinodermata and the class Asteroidea, the Nine-armed Sea Star shares lineage with other starfish, sea urchins, and sand dollars, distinguished by their radial symmetry and water vascular system used for movement and feeding.
As I paused to observe it more closely, I marveled at the intricate details of its structure. Unlike the more familiar five-armed sea stars, this specimen had nine arms radiating from a small central disc. The surface of its body appeared smooth, with tiny tube feet lining the underside of each arm—a biological marvel designed for locomotion and feeding.
This starfish washed up on high tide. I seemed alive so I returned it to the surf during ebb tide, hoping the ebb current would return it to deeper water.
The Nine-armed Sea Star, common along Florida’s coastline, is a voracious predator within the benthic ecosystem. It primarily preys on bivalves such as clams and mussels, using a fascinating feeding strategy. Unlike most predators that rely on speed and strength, this sea star employs patience and ingenuity. It wraps its flexible arms around a bivalve, exerting a slow and steady force to pry the shell open. Once a small gap is achieved, the sea star everts its stomach through its mouth and into the prey’s shell, secreting digestive enzymes that liquefy the soft tissues within. This external digestion allows the sea star to consume its prey without the need for teeth or jaws—a perfect example of nature’s ingenuity.
Despite its delicate appearance, the Nine-armed Sea Star plays a crucial role in the marine ecosystem. By preying on bivalves, it helps regulate their populations, preventing overgrazing of seagrass beds and maintaining a balanced food web. Additionally, it serves as a food source for larger marine predators, such as fish and sea turtles. Its presence signifies a healthy intertidal environment, where nutrient cycles and predator-prey relationships are in dynamic equilibrium.
As I considered the sea star’s role in the ecosystem, I wondered about its journey to this point. These creatures undergo a fascinating life cycle, starting as tiny, free-swimming larvae that drift with ocean currents. Over time, they undergo metamorphosis, settling onto the seabed and gradually developing into their iconic star shape. The resilience and adaptability of these creatures are truly astounding, capable of regenerating lost arms and thriving in diverse habitats.
Realizing that this sea star likely found itself stranded by the receding high tide, I felt a sense of responsibility to help it return to its natural environment. Picking it up gently, I carried it toward the water’s edge, where the ebb tide was beginning to pull the sea back into its vast domain. With a final look at its striking form, I placed it carefully into the shallow waves, hoping that the ebb current would carry it back to the sandy seabed where it belonged.
As the waves lapped around my feet, I imagined the sea star resuming its journey, gliding along the ocean floor in search of its next meal. The interconnectedness of all marine life became evident in that moment—each creature playing its part in an intricate and delicate dance of survival.
Walking back along the shoreline, I reflected on the experience. My fleeting encounter with the Nine-armed Sea Star was a reminder of the wonders hidden beneath the ocean’s surface and our role in preserving them. Every tide brings new discoveries, and every ebb offers a second chance—for the sea star, and perhaps for us as well.
Cocoa Beach, with its gentle waves and abundant life, had once again provided an unforgettable encounter with nature. The starfish, now safely returned to the ocean, would continue its unseen work beneath the waves, a quiet but essential denizen of the underwater world.
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Copyright 2025 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills
What an absolutely fascinating and vividly told account, Johnny! The idea of children scavenging for ‘souvenirs’ of war from railway wagons feels almost surreal, yet so fitting for the era—resourcefulness and imagination thriving even in the shadows of conflict. Your storytelling transports us straight into that post-war world, where echoes of history weren’t just studied, but held in the hands of schoolboys. I can only imagine the shock on the teacher’s face! A truly remarkable piece—thank you for bringing this lost slice of history to light.
The desert air was sharp, dry, and oddly invigorating as I stepped into the gallery at Arcosanti, Arizona. The year was 2005, and I had long dreamed of visiting this experimental micro-city—a fusion of architecture and ecology conceived by Paolo Soleri. Amidst the array of sketches, photographs, and miniature prototypes stood the centerpiece of my curiosity: the sprawling, intricate scale model of “Arcosanti 5000.” It was as though the future had been condensed into a tangible artifact, whispering promises of an alternative way of living.
The model was perched on a wooden table, surrounded by blueprints and diagrams. Its sweeping curves and layered structures evoked the natural patterns of a canyon or the unfurling petals of a desert flower. I leaned in, drawn to its labyrinthine details: the arches that seemed to embrace the air itself, the layered grids suggesting terraces and communal spaces, and the towering central spire—a striking focal point that anchored the design. The model was an architectural plan, a vision made tactile, a conversation between the human spirit and the earth it inhabits.
As I circled the table, I tried to imagine life within these walls. Here was the apse architecture that Soleri had championed—a structural form both futuristic and deeply rooted in the land. Its curves seemed to reject the cold rigidity of modern urbanity, embracing instead a harmonious fluidity. What would it feel like to wake up in one of these units, to look out through those sweeping arches and see the desert alive with light and shadow?
The plaque nearby described this design as part of a “Super Critical Mass” initiative, envisioned for a population of 5,000. The model represented an evolution from earlier prototypes, incorporating what Soleri called “nudging spaces”—areas designed to encourage spontaneous human interaction. I thought of my own neighborhood back home, how it felt fractured and isolated by its grids of asphalt and fenced-off yards. Could this model offer a blueprint for healing that divide?
I moved closer, tracing the pathways with my eyes. The tiny staircases, the shaded atriums, the terraced gardens—they spoke of a life integrated with nature, of a city that tread lightly upon its environment. The thought was thrilling, but also sobering. The challenges of realizing such a vision in the sprawling chaos of modern development loomed large in my mind. Could humanity ever truly embrace such radical simplicity?
In that moment, the gallery was silent except for the soft click of my camera. I wanted to capture not just the model, but the feeling it evoked—the delicate balance of hope and humility. The metadata on the image files would later remind me of the precise day and hour I stood there, absorbing this vision of what might be. But no timestamp could fully capture the spark it ignited—a sense that, even in a world burdened by consumption and waste, there remained a path forward, winding like a desert trail through arches of light and shadow.
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Copyright 2024 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills
The Pulse Bridge model embodies Paolo Soleri’s vision, merging architecture and philosophy to inspire adaptability, connection, and beauty in urban landscapes.
For me room was hushed, as if holding its breath in reverence for the dreams of a man who dared to reimagine not just buildings, but entire landscapes. I stood before the model of the Pulse Bridge, a work envisioned by the inimitable architect and philosopher Paolo Soleri. This was a living, breathing entity in miniature—a whisper of the city’s heartbeat rendered in metal and form.
PULSE BRIDGE is conceived for the New York cityscape and designed so as to alter its own stress configuration according to the traffic loads it carries and the temperature and wind variations. It does not so much react to such stresses as it dynamically adapts to them. This is achieved by suspending the whole structure on two sets of hinges and altering the weight distribution by way of four ballast spheres, constantly changing in weight because of the water volume they contain and is pouring in or spilling out of each. Temperature differential and wind loads will suggest asymmetrical ballast content.
The bridge stretched across the table, a golden ribbon suspended in perpetual motion. Its delicate cables, taut and slender, mirrored the veins of a great urban organism. I leaned closer, catching the glint of light on the brass framework, which seemed to hum with possibility. The slanted pylons, bold and angled at 45 degrees, rose like colossal compass points charting a path into a future yet unbuilt. Their elegant incline gave the structure a sense of poise and power, as though it were both rooted in the earth and ready to leap skyward.
At either end of the model, spherical ballast weights gleamed like captive suns, their surfaces smooth and luminous. These orbs symbolized adaptability, a dynamic response to the unpredictable forces of wind, weight, and weather. Soleri’s genius was palpable in these spheres—each a small, controlled impulse that could tip, pour, or hold water to balance the bridge’s pulse, much like the human heart adjusts its rhythm to life’s demands.
As I circled the model, I noticed how the bridge’s levels—three distinct layers—seemed to invite a diversity of life. The uppermost level promised a vista for pedestrians and the rhythmic flow of cars. Beneath, a middle layer hinted at a mix of vehicles and trucks, and the lowest level seemed destined for the silent hum of trains, utilities, and unseen infrastructure. It was a symphony of movement, each level contributing its own notes to the city’s harmony.
And yet, the most captivating feature was not the mechanics or the engineering marvels, but the philosophy embedded within. Soleri’s vision was not just to build a bridge, but to craft an experience—a structure that could breathe, flex, and adapt to the ever-changing pulse of New York. He imagined the pylons as cultural hubs, housing optical museums, exhibitions on bridge history, and even gift shops. The bridge was as much about connecting people as it was about connecting places.
Standing there, I felt the weight of Soleri’s ambition. The Pulse Bridge was a manifesto, a declaration that utilitarian structures could inspire wonder and nurture life. I imagined walking across its span, the city stretching out on either side, the bridge subtly shifting beneath my feet as it responded to the flow of traffic and the gusts of wind. It would be a conversation between structure and environment, a dialogue that reminded me of the living world we so often take for granted.
The longer I stood before the model, the more I realized it was not just a reflection of Soleri’s imagination but a challenge to our own. Could we build a future where beauty and function danced together, where even a bridge could sing of resilience and grace? The Pulse Bridge dared us to try.
In that quiet room, with sunlight streaming through the windows and casting delicate shadows across the model, I felt the profound allure of what could be. Soleri’s bridge was an idea—a luminous thread connecting visionaries across time, urging us all to dream bigger, build better, and embrace the pulse of life in all its complexity.
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Copyright 2024 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills
At Cocoa Beach, sand castles succumb to time, showcasing beauty in decay, while desert monoliths endure. Both narratives reveal nature’s artistry through impermanence and transformation.
On the shores of Cocoa Beach, where the January winds dance freely, the once-proud towers of sand now stand humbled. What was sculpted by human hands—carefully packed and shaped with laughter—has become a relic of its former grandeur. The wind, with its gentle yet relentless touch, carves away at their edges, smoothing and softening their once-crisp lines. The castles, now mere echoes of their original form, hold a quiet dignity in their decay. Impermanence is their fate.
Cocoa Beach, Brevard County, Florida, Space Coast, January 2025
In the first photograph, the remnants of a sand fortress curve in a gentle arc, protecting a lone pillar—perhaps the last bastion of a crumbling empire. The textures of wind-blown ridges ripple across the sand like waves frozen in time, whispering of the invisible forces that shape the land. The delicate striations of the eroded peak, captured in close detail in the second image, reveal the layers of creation and destruction, each grain bearing witness to the ceaseless march of time.
Cocoa Beach, Brevard County, Florida, Space Coast, January 2025
The third image brings a sense of companionship to this landscape of change. Like silent sentinels, the remaining sand pillars stand together, weathered but resolute. One wears a crown of a single shell—a reminder that even in the face of erosion, beauty persists. These fleeting structures, built in joy, now bow to nature’s artistry, embracing the inevitable with quiet grace.
Cocoa Beach, Brevard County, Florida, Space Coast, January 2025
And yet, beyond the gentle shores of Cocoa Beach, in the vast and timeless expanse of the Sahara Desert, wind-carved monoliths stand as testament to the power of patience. The fourth photograph—an imposing formation shaped by millennia of desert winds—towers over the golden dunes, its shadow stretching far into the sands. Where the beach’s castles fall in a day, the desert’s sculptures endure for centuries, silent witnesses to the ebb and flow of time on a grander scale.
Wind carved geological formation, Sahara desert. Credit “scraped from the web”
But are they so different? Whether in the fleeting impermanence of Cocoa Beach or the enduring vastness of the Sahara, the hand of the wind shapes all things. Each formation tells the same story—of creation, of erosion, and of transformation. They whisper to us that beauty is not defined by permanence, but by the dance between time and the elements.
As the sun sets over the beach, casting long shadows across the sand, one cannot help but marvel at the artistry of nature. Whether lasting an afternoon or an age, the sculptures of wind and sand remind us that all things are in motion, and every grain, every ripple, every fleeting moment holds a story waiting to be told.
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Copyright 2025 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills
Under a strong early spring desert sun I turned from Arcosanti Road, a ribbon of asphalt threading through the arid Arizona landscape. Ahead, the architectural vision of Paolo Soleri emerged like an oasis of ideas etched into the barren desert. My mind drifted back to the 1970s, to the University of Arizona lecture hall where Soleri, full of vigor, had introduced us to his concept of “Arcology.” That hour left an indelible mark—a vision of dense human habitation harmonizing with the environment, reducing our ecological footprint toward a sustainable whole.
Arcosanti detail
That memory had stayed with me, a beacon of idealism. Over the years, Soleri’s Arcosanti had grown, not with the speed of cities, but with the deliberate rhythm of an organic organism. Today, after decades of curiosity and connection, I found myself at its gates.
Click any photograph to visit my “Arizona” online gallery.
Pam checking her equipment before a Summer 2008 visit
The first steps into Arcosanti struck me with a sense of balance. A sign, simple yet bold, announced the name: ARCOSANTI. It was embedded into a wooden facade, juxtaposed with the rugged modernity of concrete forms. Below, soft plumes of desert grass swayed, echoing the harmony Soleri envisioned—a human footprint gently integrated into the natural world. The sunlit entrance spoke of the potential for design to soothe rather than overpower.
Entrance and a Tower of the Crafts III building
Inside, the bold lines and unique details captivated me. In one space, I craned my neck to admire a ceiling adorned with terracotta-colored circular forms, each embedded in angular panels radiating like the sun’s rays. These circular elements acted as focal points, their symmetry grounding the expansive, textured design. The play of light and shadow across the surface was mesmerizing, a reminder of Soleri’s mastery in turning the utilitarian into the poetic.
Ceramics Apse Sand Cast Panels I
Each space in Arcosanti seemed crafted to evoke reflection. A splash of ochre-red pigment adorned another portion of the ceiling, forming a half-circle bordered by precise ridges. It was more than architectural detail—it was an abstract sun, warm and full of energy, radiating from its place above. The deliberate asymmetry, the interplay of form and texture, seemed to breathe with the desert itself.
Ceramics Apse Sand Cast Panels II
Ceramics Apse Sand Cast Panels III
Walking further, I encountered an outdoor arch framing a bell, its heavy bronze form suspended against a panel of sky-blue. The simplicity was striking: a geometric dialogue between the natural and the constructed, a kind of meditative pause within the bustle of ideas. I lingered, allowing my thoughts to settle as the bell swayed gently in the wind.
Bell and Panel from the Colly Soleri Amphitheater
Bell Casting was and continues to be a major source of income.
Each turn at Arcosanti revealed yet another viewpoint, another carefully composed alignment of architecture and nature. The sweeping views of the Arizona desert, framed by bold circular cutouts, were a reminder of our smallness in the grand scheme of things. The cypress trees standing tall against the rugged cliffs offered a contrast of textures—natural and man-made—that felt uniquely Solerian. His vision was alive in every corner: the terraces, the staircases, the unassuming balance between the earth’s rawness and humanity’s imagination.
View from the East Housing complex to the East Across Arcosanti
As I stood gazing through one of the monumental circular frames at the horizon, I reflected on how Soleri’s ideas, abstract in the present, are also tangible, concrete, and inspiring—literally and figuratively. Despite his passing, the project he began decades ago continues to evolve, a living experiment in how we might reimagine our relationship with the planet.
View to the South with Cypress Trees from a Portal of the Crafts III Building
The journey to Arcosanti is a physical one and a rediscovery of ideals. Soleri’s Arcology—a fusion of architecture and ecology—reminded me of our potential to create something not only functional but also deeply meaningful. Here, amidst the Arizona desert, was proof of a life’s work that still speaks to humanity’s potential for coexistence and creativity.
As I prepared to leave, the weight of Soleri’s vision stayed with me, much like that lecture hall memory from all those years ago. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the concrete forms. Arcosanti stood resolute, a tribute to one man’s dream and a reminder to all of us: change is not instantaneous, but with patience, vision, and humanity, it is possible.
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Copyright 2024 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills
Michael Stephen Wills Photography 