I wouldn't mind living on the forest floor with the vanilla mushrooms and soft glaze of spider mist on a death cap, the rain-drenched soil and worms crawling over the fire-colored twigs and tiny puddles to bathe in. Wet bark, slick and mossy, a coppery fern and legionary ant on the march, a colony of scorpion-stinger grass stalks, a lemon bug with pink legs, imagine looking up and seeing the inner umbrella of a pristine toadstool, the speckled red dome and how the entire world is in love with one other, an Ice Spice orange frost and slime mold paradise over a rotten stump.