Every blade of grass eaten by an unglate, every piece of cordwood burned in my woodstove could afford a lifetime's study of complexity. Modern civilization, coming across such uniqueness and beauty want to instinctively preserve it, or at least a record of it. Of course that's not possible.
Those who tend roses and never stop to smell them have wasted nature. Just as much, those who smell their roses and never tend them have lost also. Nature requires that we use (and therefore destroy) its complex creations. But in their place, if properly used, grow more and better. Ungrazed grass reaches senescence, sometimes as early as June. It browns, decays and hangs over, its potential unrealized.
Sometimes it hurts me a little bit to cut firewood. Each tree unique, each one a testament to decades of hard work pulling carbon out the air and 93 million mile sunlight. There will never be a tree like that again. This tendency is strong in the large cities of America, where everything green is cherished and hallowed. Yet even as nature extravagantly designs and beautifies plants for fodder, trees for firewood, and clouds for rain, they are used, and used up and new ones take their place.
Many who do not understand silvicology (and some who do) want forests left entirely alone, untouched by people. I disagree for two reasons. Without access to people, their evanescent seasonal beauties are wasted. And second, they reach greater beauty with periodic cuttings. It is well understood that lawns must be mowed. So must forests. If done right, something new and beautiful will grow back.
This is the nature of nature. Its extravagance must be harvested, by nature, by us, and this makes room for, and stimulates new diversity and new beauty.