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  • My friend K advised flippantly "Just let it die. Let it go. There is beauty in rot."

    She is a formidable personality and I elected not to push her in the moment as to exactly what she meant. She is a friend, a good friend, and was trying to be helpful.

    As I wandered through the woods recently and took this photo I was reminded of that conversation from years ago and thought -

    Was she referring to the stories - the telling and re-telling, the soldiering on, the connections forged within connections - the acknowledgment of the tenacity of life spawned within death, within the disappointments and failures - that are beautiful?

    Or just the idea of rot itself, as the ultimate end unto itself, which can sometimes be a release - "there is death, and then aha!, finally, that's it! It is over. There is nothing left and that is good..."

    (We have debated this ad nauseum...)

    When I shot this photo I was reminded of her, of that conversation, and in that second agreed in full

    "Yes. Rot - this rot - for all it means and might not mean - this is indeed beautiful."
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