What if the consciousness encountering Earth from some distant corner of the universe wasn't impressed by us, but by all the beautiful bodies that fill this blue planet? Fleshy bodies and stony bodies, plant bodies and sky bodies, the mycelial weave lit up beneath a forest floor. In this solstice meditation, Michael wanders from speculative starlight to bioluminescent fungi to the shimmering shell of a mother-of-pearl, tracing one quiet idea: every body is an archive, and life shimmers for those with eyes to see. No one is without another.