In the garden there was a green tree. The bark was covered in a patchwork of moss and lichen so complete and so thick that it completely covered the trunk, from the roots to the tip of every branch. An old woman holding a lamp watched a grasshopper, also green, shimmy up the flank of the wood. Where is she going? thought the woman, quietly, to herself. Why is she holding that lamp? thought the grasshopper, quietly, to herself. It was daylight.