Different
April 5th, 2026
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I wasn't even supposed to be there. I was just crossing this path by the railway tracks to get to the other side on my way to a different place. But once I noticed the difference from afar, I had to change my plans. There was a fallen tree across the path along the railway tracks. I was walking there last Sunday, and it wasn't there lying across the path. But it was there now, and I wanted to see it up close. It might not look like it, but this forest grows in the swampy wetland, and even though the groundwater levels are falling, plenty of the trees here fall as well. The roots within the wet ground cannot withstand strong winds, and trees fall. Sometimes across walking paths. Soon, the forest rangers will be here to clear the path, as they always do. From up close, this wasn't even much of a tree. More of a log that somehow was standing up until it fell within the last seven days. I couldn't see much of the rootwork at the bottom. It looked like the tree had been swept clean at the soil level with no roots visible there, which was holding it up. The decay was there for a while, and one strong gust was enough. The invisible decay. All decay is always invisible; we make sure of that through societal norms and regulations. Out of sight, out of mind. Until the tree falls. Or more of a log pretending to be a tree. A few meters further down the path, I noticed remains of a bird's wing. A few long feathers were still attached to the bloody, triangular-shaped bones. I wasn't prepared for that, the few bloody pieces left of a bird—nothing more than that; no corpus, no more bones, no more feathers around. I did look around, but kept my walking pace. Maybe even sped up a little. Nature will not waste anything. And the bloody wing bones will be taken care of by ants soon. I felt slight disgust seeing the natural way of nature. I am well-conditioned to disregard decay, as a proper human.
