The dried remains of plants, in this case rattlesnake ferns, hang upside down and encircle a lightbulb. The plant remains, embalmed by the autumn air, are frozen in a moment after their lives have ended but prior to falling and becoming consumed by the mycelia.

When the plants were wrested from their destined cycle of decay and regeneration to become components of the light, their participation in that cycle was not exempted, it was merely shifted onto a longer time horizon. Though this light appears to be industrial, with its plastic sheathing, its extruded metal wires, and its illuminated electricity drawn from the power grid, it too is subject to the broader natural cycle of decay and regeneration. Yet we will likely not see the cycle's nadir in our lifetimes. Instead of decomposing over the course of months, the stalks will rot over the course of years, perhaps longer, and in harmony, the metal components will degrade as they corrode and dissolve over the course of decades along with the plastic, breaking down over the course of generations. While it will not happen all at once, the entire lamp will eventually return to the dirt, but until then, it hangs as a reminder a reminder that it and everything in its surroundings are slowly shuffling along the path of inevitable decay.