It is humid and quiet in our behind forest.
Cold pulls through me with a shiver.
Two roe deer stare at me among the trees.
You see them thinking, as it were.
Where does that guy suddenly come from?.
Behind me, the sound of a fox sounds.
Camera dangles from a belt around my neck
I'm getting down the knees a bit laboriously.
For me, a separate mini-landscape reveals itself.
Made of dead wood, mosses and pine cones
Tiny mushrooms on long peduncles
I really love their tender sight.
Small fungi of half an inch at most.
Unnoticed by animals and walkers.
Look a bit like small shimmering candlesticks.
Those during the dark days before Christmas.
Want to illuminate Earth with their brittle presence
On dead wood in the forest and in our wooded garden.