Slime mould is one of the forest’s most intriguing secrets. Neither plant nor animal, it moves slowly through leaf litter, feeding, branching, and reshaping itself in ways that seem almost otherworldly. For photographers, it offers a world of colour and texture on an astonishingly small scale.
Most species rise only a few millimetres high, yet they display remarkable forms: tiny globes, delicate stalks, metallic droplets, and coral-like clusters tucked into the damp edges of rotting wood. Seen through a macro lens, their colours come alive—yellows, pinks, whites, and deep earthy tones that glow beautifully in soft woodland light.
Slime mould thrives in quiet, decaying, moisture-rich corners of the forest. Early mornings after rain are ideal, when surfaces glisten and the organisms are at their most vibrant. Photographing them invites a slower pace: careful observation, precise focus, and a willingness to explore the forest floor from a new angle.
What fascinates me most is how these tiny organisms reshape our sense of scale. They remind us that entire worlds unfold beneath our feet—complex, delicate, and endlessly surprising. Slime mould may be small, but it offers some of the most rewarding and intimate moments in macro photography.
Most of my images below are photostacked of anything up to 80 images per photo. I use Zerene Stacker , Photoshop and Lightroom
To view the work of a real expert,visit the website of Andy Sands
