Chimes danced through the air interrupted every so often by the baritone groans of a passing beast. Chirps betrayed the hidden forms of technicolor birds buried in the dense canopy. Leaf litter dominated the ground cover, choking out any fledgling plants seeking the distant sun. Only slits of light made it to the forest floor each illuminating clouds of gravity defying spores.

The specks dominated the air, saturating it with life, adding a strange viscosity to every movement. It wasn't difficult to locate their origin in the forms of oversized fungal flora. The trees far above cradled this strange pocket of fungi from reality, allowing individuals to grow to the size of mature oaks. Gills hung beneath colorful crowns of all hues and patterns, the remnants of warning from their humble origins.

I pushed past a grove of sproutlings, all of which poofed yet more spores into the air as I made contact. In a glade of sorts I paused to admire the alien beauty of this fungal conclave. The cycle of life never ceased to amaze me, truly it was the unknowable concept of the divine. That from death and rot such a wellspring of harmony could sprout. That only through decay could new life be born.

I closed my eyes to inhale the heady mix of primordial soup floating past my nose. It stank of corpse rot and honey melon all at once, even its scent was paradoxical. 

I was dead-set that one day I would return to this haven so that my final resting place would fuel another journey. But as time meant nothing to these giants I began my journey onwards, resolving to bother them no more. The enshrined borders receded from my tread, but its memory would live on eternal as the elder ones themselves.