Going After Cacciato by Tim O'Brien

"Yes, they were in jungle now. Thick dripping jungle. Club moss fuzzing on the bent branches, hard green bananas dangling from trees that canopied in lush sweeps of green, vaulted forest light in yellow-green and blure-green and olive-green and silver-green. It was jungle. Growth and decay and the smell of chlorophyll and jungle sounds and jungle depth. Soft, humming jungle. Everywhere, greenery deep in greenery. Itching jungle, lost jungle. A botanist's madhouse, Doc said."