Most of us walk through woodland without noticing them. They're not plants, not fungi, not animals - slime molds occupy their own bizarre corner of the living world, and they're easy to miss entirely. But photographer Barry Webb has made it his mission to find them, and what he's uncovering is genuinely extraordinary.
A world that only a macro lens can reveal
Working across the wet woodlands of the UK, Webb uses macro photography to bring slime molds into startling focus. The results, highlighted by Designboom, look less like something you'd find on a forest floor and more like stills from a science fiction film - alien structures, iridescent spheres, and branching forms that seem almost architectural in their precision.
The scale of these organisms is part of what makes them so easy to overlook. We're talking about structures that can be just a few millimetres across, tucked onto rotting logs or damp leaf litter. Without a macro lens pulling them into view, they're essentially invisible to the casual walker.
Why slime molds are having a moment
There's been a quiet but growing fascination with slime molds over the past few years - and for good reason. These organisms challenge the way we think about intelligence and biology. Some species can solve maze-like problems and find efficient routes through complex environments, despite having no brain or nervous system whatsoever. Scientists have studied them for insights into network design and even urban planning.
Webb's photography taps into something beyond the scientific curiosity, though. It's about aesthetic wonder - the reminder that genuinely alien beauty exists within walking distance of wherever you happen to live, if you know how to look.
The fleeting nature of the work
One of the most compelling aspects of Webb's project is its relationship with time. Slime molds appear and disappear quickly, making them genuinely difficult to photograph. Their structures can be fully formed and then gone within days, depending on temperature and moisture. That urgency gives the work a quality that feels almost meditative - a reminder that some of the most remarkable things in nature don't wait around.
Whether you consider yourself a nature enthusiast or not, there's something undeniably compelling about the idea that the UK's soggy, unremarkable-looking woodland floors are hiding this kind of visual drama. You might never look at a mossy log the same way again.
