Micro and Macro

The tiny little mushroom stood there in the forest, the deep, deep forest. He just stood there as he always did, alone, as he could not go anywhere and uproot himself. So each day he just took in the sights he saw and silence around him. It was a foggy day…foggy and cold. There was a sense of Fall in the air with a hint of approaching Winter. It started to rain and he knew at that moment that the forest was crying. He could not ask the forest why it was weeping so because he was just a tiny mushroom in the vastness that was the forest. He know, however, why it was crying, for the same reason he was slumped over every day. It was alone. With no one to talk to. He was alone. No companions but each other, so far apart. They were alone.