Dear Curiosity Journal,

At the base camp of the sugar bush, I lean against a fallen oak. Even in her state of decay, she continues to support life on the forest floor. My eyes float to another decomposing tree, still standing, riddled with pockets where the woodpeckers have whittled away at the wood. In her quiet way, Mother Nature reminds me of the value of timber past her prime, still playing a lead role in the ecosystem. She is interconnected with the mycelium networks beneath the dark, damp soil, the feathered spirits flying overhead, and every breath in between. We may fail to see the elegance in her rotting body, but her enchanting essence never stops bestowing subsistence.