Decomposition
Spring is the season of birth and the soil is where it starts. I took this picture of leaf litter on a forest path. I was attracted to the pattern created by the leaf segments slowly decomposing into the ground. A composition of decomposition. Tiny sprouts, in the midst of their growth spurts, had pushed through the canvas-like cover of leaf debris. I lowered myself to the ground to witness this cycle of life from an insect’s point of view; it was mesmerizing.
The soil under our feet is a galaxy of its own. There are more microbes in a teaspoon of soil than there are people on the Earth. I think about that each spring when my hands begin their seasonal work with the ground. Burying tree roots in damp, crumbly depths, and tending to the seedlings which miraculously emerge from there. A few years ago, I bought a refrigerator magnet as a souvenir from my trip to Oregon. It still resonates with me and summarizes how I feel this time of year. It’s a drawing of a mushroom with the caption ‘nature is magic’.
It’s easy to take this existence for granted, it happens to me when I get lost in routines and trivial thoughts. Photography is my escape, it lets me see with a new perspective and offers the opportunity to reconnect with life; the great mystery of it all. When you allow yourself time to sit and ponder the simplest of questions, like ‘what really is a rock?’ while looking at one with curiosity, you’ll find yourself humbled by what can’t be explained. The ego takes a back seat for a moment and it’s a relief. Accepting the unknown, and even finding comfort in it, can make you feel a bit like a leaf returning to the fertile soil.
