I'd seen it a couple of times as I hurried passed on my way to somewhere or other … a dead, crumbling log on the forest floor. I guess the wind had brought it down or maybe it was just too tired and weathered by the years to stand any longer. It must have been a magnificent tree in its prime, its trunk still substantial despite the ravages of time.
Then one day I took a closer look and uncovered a beauty that only time and nature could have perfected. The most delicate colours and intricate designs … as if carved by the hand of a master … lichen ‘appliqued” by a skilled seamstress … holes punched by an enthusiastic borer and occasionally decorated with silken thread by an innovative spider.
Then one day I took a closer look and uncovered a beauty that only time and nature could have perfected. The most delicate colours and intricate designs … as if carved by the hand of a master … lichen ‘appliqued” by a skilled seamstress … holes punched by an enthusiastic borer and occasionally decorated with silken thread by an innovative spider.
I love the way nature nurtures. The dead and decaying sustains the life of a plethora of plants and insects … a new ecosystem evolves, flourishes and transform what could be grotesque into a thing of beauty.
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