The process of decaying

A 5-year-old in a North European castle garden, aiming to master the art of blending in with tree leaves.
No enemies appeared, no matter how long I waited.

Many leaves, decaying and returning to the earth.
Except for conifers, the trees stand bare and stark.
Daylight saving time is over, and another dark, long winter approaches.

It seems it's time to re-tile the roof of our 48-year-old house, without further delay.
I had a roof expert inspect the roof, and he told me there was moss, cracks, a missing tile, and that a hole was about to appear.
In short, it was "finished." ...Sigh.
The decaying roof.
Later, I opened the terrifying estimate they delivered and was absolutely astonished.
Could you, um, wait for my reply, tee hee? I said, and declined for now.

To all our customers. If there's an item you've seen for a while, isn't selling, is expensive, but you sort of want, now's your chance to negotiate the price down.

(When I want to escape the reality of my broken roof, I open the Instagram of the Swedish real estate agency, hemnet. The houses for sale are so wonderful and stylish! One after another, houses exemplifying chic Nordic living appear.
It's so much fun to imagine living in them.
They might also provide interior design inspiration. It's fun!)

Changing the subject, the activities at the 5-year-old ninja's daycare are very interesting, and I strongly feel a sense of growing up in nature.
Basically, they play outside even when it rains.
They come home completely muddy and messy, having done such a good job that their parents and washing machine could weep.
In winter, even when the outside temperature is -10℃, they generally play outside.
And the little ones often line up with their teacher and head into the forest.
One spring day, they brought home rabbit droppings, buried them in potting soil, and observed if anything sprouted. Apparently, this helps determine what plants the wild rabbits ate, and Hanna-sensei later told them that unfortunately nothing sprouted this time.
Recently, they reported nailing an apple core, a paper bag, rubber gloves, and a can lid to a wooden board, burying it in the forest soil, and planning to dig it up in spring to observe what happened.
As the apple core decays in the soil, the children's brains and curiosity are nurtured.
The fun daycare teachers are vibrant and sparkling.

I wish for what falls upon the children to be raindrops, snow, fallen leaves, and laughter.
Not concrete shards, dust, or screams.
Perhaps decaying is evidence of the gentle and natural passage of time.
A decaying, broken roof—I can't afford to be down about it.
I must do something before it completely falls apart.