"I should collect goods from these living woods, most folks call toadstools or weeds."
No neo-nemophilist to this neck of the woods, reclusive eleutheromanian, "Phlex Sphincter", of "The first Church of what's left of Earth", returns solemnly from a small space between White Ash trees where he'd been standing, squatting, scrutinizing, then scowling at something on the ground near his boot.
Breaking his concentration and study, he reaches toward "it".
After approaching closely enough to be heard, he mutters, "can only mean one thing", as he opens his hand, thereby revealing the subject of his intense study and rapt attention.
Being the woods wise and whimsical character, slowly raising his head just high enough to make eye contact past the brim of his well worn, faded, favorite and badly, low branch damaged hat, a mischievous wink and nearly imperceptible grin is unexpectedly and impishly implied.
He tips again, this time hat, head and eyes sharply to the left, almost perpendicular to Earth, while leaning against a particularly large, monarch White pine trunk, suns rays beaming 'tween green pine needles as bird and butterfly flit and flutter by.
He speaks again, after projecting tongue and crossing eyes, "got the first mushroom".
There's more where that came from!