I know all the plants here. both in the sense that I can identify them from each other, I know their names; but I also know many of the plants in my woods as individuals. the coralroots come up in the same spot every few years. the thimbleberries struggle toward the same patches of light, the little roses wither and surge.
I scramble over the trunk of that Douglas fir several times a week; my hands and feet (and others') are slowly wearing the bark away. it took down a bay laurel when it fell, and for months the smell was so intense it could almost get you high.