I have two long teeth but no mouth to speak, I move heavy loads all days of the week. What am I, that helps to stack crates to the highest peak?

I make space for life that else wouldn't thrive. Both small critters and green, here often not seen. A piece of faraway places at home may brighten some faces.

In experienced hands I can join the band. Beginners beware, ear bleeds may occur.

I have no wings, yet upwards I race, carrying my crew with a fiery embrace. What am I, yearning for space?

I cover floors from wall to wall and make sure your toes don't freeze off in the fall. This also applies to wintertime, but that didn't rhyme as fine.