I spend my life making books. Recently I have been burying my books and today was exhumation day for one of them. As I rummaged through the soil,, worms disappearing down dank holes, shiny beetles defending their turf and other stuff i cared not what it was, I slowly unearthed my book.
Cleaning off the soil from the pages revealed a myriad of colours. Fungi and moulds creating pattens and swirls to delight the eye. Then the insect and their spwan damage began to take form. First the edges of pages had been nibbled.
On opening the pages holes began to make their mark adding to the page.
The book was being taken back to nature being both home and food, an environment within an environment.
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