In the beginning, the end.
The trunk lies prone across
the damp, green undergrowth,
a wetland’s edge, a world
of moss and earthy smells.
Before too long its reach
is breached, invaded by
a myriad of hopeful life
that creeps across its skin
and digs within its folds.
Roots tenderly caress
and insects penetrate –
integrity decays
as one becomes the whole and
the whole absorbs the one.
This union births a realm,
a bloom of life, and thus
the end becomes the beginning.

On our walk this afternoon we passed a tree that had been felled and deliberately let to rot and feed the life of a local patch of wetland.
(01.02.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Ivy Kleban on Unsplash