Moss is Life

Guthrie sniffs who has been running beneath the sagebrush

Daily Note

Every day, a photograph, a poem. No snow, but steady rain. And Guthrie seems to get twice as wet because he pulls rain from the sagebrush he runs through too. Normally, that luscious green moss below the sagebrush would not exist, or we could not see it if it grows below the snow, which it can do. As you can see in the photo above, he spends a lot of time in the sage brush; here he is taking his time sniffing to see if any one is still there in the sagebrush. I just keep walking, and soon he listens for where I am and comes running:

We live in an area that is almost desert, called the shrub-steppe, which seems to be endangered [Washington Native Plant Society and REACH Museum Lessons]. In times of moisture, winter snow and early spring rains, moss does grow in areas where moisture gathers, such as in the pits of rough granite and basalt rocks. And it survives the heat of the summer and autumn by drying out.

Moss is amazing: it’s been around for hundreds of millions of years on every continent. It has no roots, but rather rhizoids, hair-like strands They can live in extreme heat and extreme cold, usually by drying out. Because they soak up moisture like a sponge, they keep the area around them humid, providing water for the plants around it. Read more about moss from the KEW Gardens and take a virtual tour there.

Since I’ll be by this spot again, many times, I’ll be able to document the moss’s development. We’ll see what happens as the winter cold arrives in February and the spring and summer changes occur.

But for now, how about a poem: Moss Is Life.

Poetry

Moss Is Life

Water is life: elders
advise; rainfall in winter—
mosses hold and save
beneath the desert’s sagebrush;
Will moss prolong a wet spring?
Sheri Edwards
01.03.24 003.365.24
Poetry/Photography