In Defense of Mushrooms
Je connais une planète où il y a un Monsieur cramoisi. Il n'a jamais respiré une fleur. Il n'a jamais regardé une étoile. Il n'a jamais aimé personne. Il n'a jamais rien fait d'autre que des additions. Et toute la journée il répète comme toi : "Je suis un homme sérieux ! Je suis un homme sérieux !" et ça le fait gonfler d'orgueil. Mais ce n'est pas un homme, c'est un champignon!
—Le Petit Prince, Antoine de Saint-Exupéry1
Richmond is the capital of Virginia.
In Richmond there is Capitol Square Park.
In it the capitol building, where the lege meets
Surrounded by green lawns and dead white dudes with swords in bronze,
Also Edgar Allen Poe, with a pen!
Not quite conceding that the pen is mightier,
Virginia yet allows it a place.
I lived on Main Street, south of Capitol Square.
I worked at the medical school, north of Capitol Square.
Morning and evening I walked through the square.
One morning: thousands of mushrooms,
Diaphanous, almost transparent, faintly bluish
Covered the green lawns.
It rained—the next day they were gone.
Threaded through the grass roots,
A huge fibrous mycelium.
One giant organism
Decided that day to reproduce.
That day
The mushroom was fairer than the rose.
I know a planet where there is a red-faced gentleman. He has never smelled a flower. He has never looked at a star. He has never loved anyone. He has never done anything other than sums. And all day, he repeats like you: "I am a serious man! I am a serious man!" and that makes him puff up with pride. But that’s not a man, it’s a mushroom!
—The Little Prince, Antoine de Saint-Exupéry