Rotting is not necessarily a bad thing. People tend to think it is - if you think of rot you might mention zombies, the Dearly Departed of course, tomatoes past September, things that smell. But here - and a lot of other places decay is just a part of your day. It's such a vast open area you can't possibly begin to think of cleaning it. Leaves lie where they land, dead things gently repose back into the earth, trees fall and soon turn bright green with moss and mold. You can spend hours in my yard and around examining the slow decay - every next thing as interesting as the last. Because after the flesh is gone, there's no smell of course, just ivory brittle bones. The trees turn to gross shapes, no longer resembling their former selves, patterns of moss scattering across new barkless forms. So much of it resembles sculptures, free form and flowing, how much of it don't we see? Parts of the surrounding areas here look like scenes out of a gothic fairy tale, the twisted looming trees, layers of leaves and loam, dank leaves and branches swallowed in the bogs, swollen lifeless things beneath the surface. It's amusing how many people fear death or try to put it off, without realizing just because you don't know what it is - doesn't mean it's bad. Here is something I walk through every day without giving it a second thought, surrounded by the dead on my way to work. Hey! Enjoy the rest of your weekend!
Rotting is not necessarily a bad thing. People tend to think it is - if you think of rot you might mention zombies, the Dearly Departed of course, tomatoes past September, things that smell. But here - and a lot of other places decay is just a part of your day. It's such a vast open area you can't possibly begin to think of cleaning it. Leaves lie where they land, dead things gently repose back into the earth, trees fall and soon turn bright green with moss and mold. You can spend hours in my yard and around examining the slow decay - every next thing as interesting as the last. Because after the flesh is gone, there's no smell of course, just ivory brittle bones. The trees turn to gross shapes, no longer resembling their former selves, patterns of moss scattering across new barkless forms. So much of it resembles sculptures, free form and flowing, how much of it don't we see? Parts of the surrounding areas here look like scenes out of a gothic fairy tale, the twisted looming trees, layers of leaves and loam, dank leaves and branches swallowed in the bogs, swollen lifeless things beneath the surface. It's amusing how many people fear death or try to put it off, without realizing just because you don't know what it is - doesn't mean it's bad. Here is something I walk through every day without giving it a second thought, surrounded by the dead on my way to work. Hey! Enjoy the rest of your weekend!
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