Histosol

quietmagpie:

image

Ask a Mortician is a series of videos (available on YouTube) which challenge popular thinking on death and dying. In each episode, Caitlin Doughty answers peoples’ questions about what happens to our bidies after we die, as well as about the funeral industry. She has an excellent sense of…

omegaling:

I can vouch that all morticians have the same sense of humor.

omegaling:

I can vouch that all morticians have the same sense of humor.

I love that sweet smell of decay that surrounds me in forests and woods. A kind of mulchy, deep, rich rot that has no connotation of death or ending, but rather of life and age. A sense of perpetual destruction and rebirth.
Unknown (via natural-magics)
tatteredbanners:

by Artur Grottger

tatteredbanners:

by Artur Grottger

atwaearth:

The function that fungi serves in the ecosystem is powerful and even spiritual - fungi transition dead matter back into useful nutrients that will support and give rise to new life. They are the great recyclers of the Earth and return life from death.

atwaearth:

The function that fungi serves in the ecosystem is powerful and even spiritual - fungi transition dead matter back into useful nutrients that will support and give rise to new life. They are the great recyclers of the Earth and return life from death.

The soil is the great connector of lives, the source and destination of all. It is the healer and restorer and resurrector, by which disease passes into health, age into youth, death into life. […]

It is alive itself. It is a grave, too, of course. Or a healthy soil is. It is full of dead animals and plants, bodies that have passed through other bodies. For except for some humans—with their sealed coffins and vaults, their pathological fear of the earth—the only way into the soil is through other bodies. But no matter how finely the dead are broken down, or how many times they are eaten, they yet give into other life. If a healthy soil is full of death, it is also full of life: worms, fungi, microorganisms of all kinds, for which, as for us humans, the dead bodies of the once living are a feast.

—Wendell Berry in The Unsettling of America, p. 86