Ole Mossy Rock

Seattle is known for being a wet city. Not wet as in alcohol, although there's plenty of that too, but wet as in rain.

As of the evening of April 25th, Seattle had 44.7 inches of rain between October and up until then in April. As the headlines announced, we smashed the record set just last year for the most rain in the October-April period. Of course, because we are such a young city, we've only been keeping such records since 1895. But two sequential years breaking the rainfall record? What's up with that?

When Kuro and I went walking a couple nights ago, we decided to look for moss, one of the natural results of the rain. We found moss in plenty and of various kinds. Moss on rocks, sidewalks, tree limbs and roofs.

Moss growing on a small shed roof just across our back fence.

We found many varieties of the four kinds of moss: sheet moss, cushion moss, haircap moss and rockcap moss. I don't know how many varieties there are in each division but the articles in Wikipedia and other places go on seemingly forever.

Here in Seattle many people battle the moss. They fight the moss in the lawn, on the sidewalk and on the roof. They put up a good fight but the moss always wins. Some people don't fight but seem to enjoy the moss that grows everywhere.

Moss is called "koke" in Japanese and is admired instead of despised. Most people who grow bonsai encourage moss to grow in various ways over and around the roots, and temple gardens sometimes have glorious expanses of various kinds of koke.

We sometimes walk this way just to admire this huge old wisteria vine that stretches along the top of a fence from property line to property line, probably fifty feet. I don't know how old it is but it is covered with beautiful moss now and it will soon bear blossoms from here to the end of the fence.

I've walked these same streets for many years, both with our old Kuro and now this new dog, Kuro, and I've looked at flowers, trees and sunsets. I've looked at moss before but I've never searched it out and really seen it. It's everywhere.

As Henry David Thoreau said, "It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see."

Moss gets along well with our wild violets that, like moss, grow in the shady moist places, if left alone.

Three or four different kinds of moss plus some lichens thrown in for a bonus.

Speaking of lichen, the micro-climate on this north side of an old fence grows a bumper crop. Several kinds fighting for space plus a couple kinds of moss find breathing room.

Moss, moss, everywhere, if you really see what you are looking at.

Moss and lichen grow on the larger branches of my nashii (Japanese pear-apple) tree.

The old saying goes, "A rolling stone gathers no moss." Stationary stones and old tree branches allow moss to grow undisturbed. Shiny growth wears a badge of new life. No moss here until the new leaves join previous generations in the humus below.

As I get older I find it necessary to roll a little harder to keep the moss from growing.