A single enormous lichen colony, lobed, a lichen colony sheeting over the floor, pale, pushes up out of a dark conifer floor of ferns and needle litter, the form pushing up through it in a near-black conifer forest, the frame four-fifths dark, tangled into a dense knot of cords, the cords crossing over and under each other and each one cabled like rope, its structure read in the lit edge alone. Hard raking sun near the horizon, an empty cobalt sky, and the form's shadow stretched the full width of the frame — and one lit strip across the near lobes, which is what keeps the frame's separation. The floor dense and unreadable, the form's lit face clean. One person alone in a bone shirt, standing at the base of the form, tiny — about one fiftieth of the frame's height, too small to read a face. Hushed and a little funereal.