Nothing is static on the forest floor.
Birth and death sit side by side.
Decay forms the basis for new life.
Look in the morning, you may see nothing new.
Return in the afternoon, and something
has pushed up with an abundance of quiet force.
Come back the next day, and it may already be in decline.
The island trails are full of wonder in September.
Moisture from autumn storms and from the
condensation of cool night air provides opportunity for
fungi to appear in great abundance of form and color.
Every day brings new beauty.
Imagine the force required for this fragile mushroom to move
the debri above it out of its way.
~~~~~ ** ~~~~~
From this rotted tree stump sprouts new life.
I find considerable joy in knowing this.
Per saecula, saeculorum. Amen.