The part of the body closest to a tree is the tooth, the deep roots of it. If you don’t believe me, wait till you get a molar pulled; the hole in the gum will remind you of the hole left where you dug the poplar out. For years, without taste buds—and therefore no reward—the tooth chewed and chewed. Now it’s the miniature of a tree stump turned to ivory. You’d swear that it’s centuries older than the rest of you, that someone found it sunk in permafrost beside a tiny Dorset carving of a swan.