Falling down

In preparation for the open studio in Sept, I stuck Trophy in the crux of the tree in our garden. Sometime thereafter, during one particularly windy evening, I'm sure, the sculpture came to the ground. It's still there at the foot of the tree.
There's something affecting for me in its present maimed death-posture. I'm waiting for a process of decomposition that I know will not come; the work is made of wood and styroform. I imagine some molding will occur and the styro will slough off it's pink plaster skin, but perhaps not much else. I relish maintaining the site of incidence. There's a history there even if not significant. As a metaphor for my own activities, I'd like this occurrence to leave a mark, to be absorbed to some degree by it's environment
At the very least I'm waiting for the falling leaves to swallow it up but that tree is slow to let loose of those extensions. In any case, I'm sure the landscapers will come and disrupt the crime scene with a bit of tidying up. I'm apt to let the piece stay over the winter, watch it disappear and then reappear in the Spring before I dispose of it finally.