Life in decay

Maybe our memories are short, but it seems somehow colder this year than last.  It might just be that the awareness of the increased cost of fuel makes the same cold harder to bear.  As I walk around the city, I'm constantly on the lookout for abandoned bits of wood that I can put in the wood-burner.

However, here in my garden there's a small pile of logs that I won't burn, and that I leave alone as wintering homes for bugs, spiders and ladybirds.  The wood's soft to the touch, breaks open easily and inside you can see a fine latice-work of fungus lacing the structure.  Small creatures I can't name scurry and wriggle away when disturbed.

Even with Saturday's dusting of snow, this wood was still a shelter for the life that we don't normally see or think about.  It's a reminder that life flourishes even in decay, even in the "bleak midwinter" of the carol, and how the great cycle of the seasons, and of life, constantly whirls around us.