The dead amongst the living

Spring time brings hope of renewal and fresh beginnings, more light, more warmth.  Things start to wake up after the winter.  In the woods, which has long been carpeted with dead leaves, signs of life start to emerge.

The growth is tender and each leaf is a vibrant green - a welcome sight after the months of mud and mulch.

And yet, whilst my attention is captured by the tiny seedlings, a shift in my perception causes me to notice the dead leaves surrounding them.  Suddenly I see the end and the beginning at the same time.  What was, and what might be, co-existing.

Is this the same for us, I wonder?  Are we surrounded by the countless dead?  Do they sustain us?  Is the apparently empty air actually saturated with their invisible essence?

And then I cannot see life without death, and I cannot see death without life.  Just like I cannot see the sun and not the shadows.

For most of the time I realise I am half-blind.