A few years ago, my father had to cut down a decaying birch tree in his yard. I asked if I could have a section of the trunk to use as a stool in our home.
There was an old woodpecker hole in the birch, though, and the decision was easy: I wanted the section of the trunk with the hole in it.
I brought it home, only for us to discover that it was very rotten in the middle. My partner drilled away the rotten wood from the bottom of the log, and a hole for a flowerpot emerged by accident. The children played with small animal figures in it, and the woodpecker hole was an exciting addition, while the fern created a jungle atmosphere. After a while, bracket fungi started growing out of the trunk, and I felt something special: our home was like a forest.
