A budding flower
herald of things to come
a feast of fragrance and colour
Then remains the memory
and the promise of the seeds

For me, beauty exists in decay, a blend of melancholy and hope. I see this same combination in materials that have lost their function.

With climate change, I wonder if the seeds will still have room to germinate. This construction waste, partly found in nature, shows my fear of losing the promise of the seeds. Will we soon be left with only the memory of nature?