I have a single room but no hallway. I wear a hat of grass or dried straw. I live in forests, beaches, and wild mountains. I am a home, but I use no bricks.

I top your latte, crown the sea, and cushion you while you sleep peacefully.

A ribbon of silver, flowing and clear, guiding the small fish and whispering cheer. It bends and it twists, through forest and glen, a path never-ending, again and again.

I stand tall, a titan of time, my rings a story, my height sublime. What am I?

I float like a log, but I hunt with a smile, With armor for skin, I can wait for a while. I bask in the sun by the river's green edge, And snap with sharp teeth near the watery sedge.