This moss seemed very happy with its lot in life and was beaming – brilliantly so. I paused for a while to feel its feathery surface and sniff its rich woody aroma. I prodded a little, but mostly observed and took its picture, trying to capture its best angle.
On viewing its image I was taken back to the foot of that tree, back to its scent and its touch. What’s more, the picture appeared against countless others following the typing of four letters into the search box: M O S S. Pictures taken here, there and everywhere, all featuring mossy and green coloured scenery.
It appears I’ve been drawn to moss for some time, or at least to the colour green – but then you probably knew this. It calms, refreshes, invigorates. The colour green lifts my spirits completely and is the force that I’m sure carries me forward – probably when I’m not even paying attention.
A glimpse of green, just one amongst millions of similar greens growing maybe amongst bark on a tree or between cracks on a decaying fence posts is important to me. If I didn’t know better I’d swear I had green blood streaming through my veins.
Mosses and lichen, even grassy tussocks are seldom placed, yet always find a way to make themselves at home. Green growth in most all its varied forms and tones will always have a place in my garden, for green signifies life and roots me to the natural world.
My stumbling across another humble patch of moss growing on a tree brought me even closer to an element of nature that was before, and was again after – minding its own business. In that moment in time I was up close to nature, and again now I relive that beautiful moment as I write and view the image.
I shall never take a patch of green for granted or undervalue its role in the wider world, its role as a home, a place of refuge and as a work of art in itself. That ‘simple’ patch of moss might mean nothing to some, but it’s everything to me.