A short drive from the city, southwest Michigan is home to several forests that have remained undisturbed throughout recorded time. There, trees grow enormous and fall, pushed by strong winds or swelling streams, by the shift of a bank that has been shifting for decades. Lightning strikes.
The dead lie among the living, a constant reminder of the earth’s reliance on its past. What is dead becomes the stuff of life, as mushrooms, fungus, and insects move in. Mosses, ferns, and flowers take hold around the moldering remains.
These are lands where water stands, where mud and dust both have their season, along with the snakes and the mosquitoes. Without the flooding and washing of the rains and streams, these tracts would not produce the amazing flowers and foliage that are synonymous with spring delight.
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