It is a well known fact with my family that I am fascinated by mosses, ferns, lichens and the such. Darling Daughter is much the same. Elizabeth and I will tromp the swamps and marshes in search of anything interesting. In fact, the fondness has grown so much that it is a great desire to have moss gardens in place of lawn. Grass is boring. Mosses are not. They are magical!
This morning while out walking the old dog, the ground shimmered with a gilding like none other. Normally this area is a deep, velvety green but, in the early spring, the carpet moss is almost gold. This is because the moss had shot up its sporophytes! These are tiny growths on the female moss that are actually "baby" mosses waiting to happen. They appear to be tiny stalks with a capsule at the top. Since they cannot support themselves at this point they literally "feed" off "Dear Old Mom". The female moss (yes, these mosses reproduce sexually and asexually) supports the sporophytes until they are mature and the weather is perfect. Then, the capsules will burst open and spores will scatter about the place with the aid of the wind. The spores will fall to the ground and become either male or female mosses. When reproducing asexually, a small portion of moss may be separated from the clump. This piece can grow into a new moss.
The carpet moss is aptly named as it does indeed "carpet" the ground and appear to be a nice, soft rug. If conditions are right, the carpet moss can reproduce and spread rather rapidly. Mosses do require a good bit of water to flourish which is why they are readily found on creek banks, in swamps and, in my case, on a bayou. However, since they draw most of their water from the air, the ground does not necessarily have to be soggy. The weather this past year has been perfect for moss-growing. The often rains and heavy fogs have kept it wet enough to support the growth and reproduction.
Personally, I think if the entire place was covered by mosses, it would be ideal. After cutting grass for the past two days, it would be nice to have the ever neat and trim mosses covering the yard. No more mowing! Hmmm...that might be some of the allure but, overall, I think it would just be enchanting!
Back when I was just a toddler, I had an aunt who used to fill my head with all sorts of mysterious ideas. With just a word, Aunt Helen could spark the imagination and lead me into a wonderland filled with mystical creatures, beautiful faeries and magical baubles. This whimsical forest held all of the fairy tales ever written. Each time we entered, the tales came to life and she and I became part of them. More than once, we danced with faeries, climbed to the top of beanstalks or fought off a mean ogre. The Land of Enchantment was usually none other than some hidden spot where Aunt Helen found a piece of moss growing. We would gather pretty stones, colored leaves and maybe a flower or two to embellish our garden. Once we had it to our liking, we would sit while she told me a tale of some faeries and their noble deeds. I would be totally engrossed in her tales and firmly believed all she said. After the storytelling, we would act out parts or rush to the house to make "tea and crumpets" (which was usually nothing more than tea and vanilla wafers). Our grand tea party would be held out in our mossy glade while she told more sweet tales. This was an amazing thing for a child to experience....especially a kid that grew up on a farm where life was all too real. Work began as soon as you could walk, play was limited and life and death was a daily thing. My escapes to the magical kingdoms of Aunt Helen's imagination was a special treat.
Today as I was cutting firewood, I came across a small clump of carpet moss. The sight of the moss brought back a flood of memories with Aunt Helen being in the midst of them. The deep green color, the softness of the tiny fronds and the coolness of touch all made me want to go back to the days when things were simpler and a kid could find happiness in a make-believe world. As an adult, I had always wanted to be "Aunt Helen" and share the wonderment with little ones but, alas, with all of the stuff being shoved at kids right and left, there is little time to be spent dreaming. Kids are bombarded at an early age with sensory overload and they cannot separate themselves from it. Gone are the days when the imagination could take you to another world. Oh, how I long for simpler times.
