Other trees, in more serious stages of decay, have hit the rock bottom of the forest floor, but they re still giving something back to the earth. Where their roots were yanked out of the ground when the tree fell, there s dark-colored dirt as fine as any you could buy in a bag. The tree s demise has made the soil around it even better. Its once-mighty branches are becoming a fine compost that will help feed some other tree that decides to take root here. All these scenes are comforting because I realize everything has a purpose in the woods.
Nothing is wasted.
It s all as it should be. I take a break from the walk, sit on a log and hope to spot some animal that calls this place home. But I can t keep quiet long enough. I ve got to point out the tree, down by the creek, that s been gnawed by a beaver. Or the patch of ground that looks like a turkey scratched it.