Moving Redux---Recharging

Moving is wearisome business. Especially for an old man like me, toting those boxes and lifting those bales is tiring but the midnight worries are even worse.  In the condo, is the painter going to be done in time for the carpet man to do his thing before the movers arrive with our furniture and household goods? In the old house, Patching walls where pictures hung, getting the last of the furniture and such out and coordinating the cleaning team give plenty of grist for midnight thought.

In a protected corner we saw the last of this year's roses.

This morning was beautiful with the bright sun peeking through departing storm clouds so Kuro and I decided to take an early walk, commune with Mother Earth and recharge our (my) batteries.

Kuro doesn't need his batteries recharged. The  mere sight of his leash in my hand has him dancing a jig and waiting impatiently to get out the door.

The early morning rain was still on the grass. Kuro got soaked
from mid-belly down and my feet got wet.

Here in Seattle, it's just a little early for good fall colors but we found a few reds, yellows and golds.

We came across hydrangeas in shades from blue to bronzed purple. I've read about how soil acidity affects the colors of the hydrangea but I wonder if the sun exposure might also make a difference in blossom color.

It's almost Halloween. This little guy will make a perfect Jack O'Lantern

In a secluded area we came across a small tree in the cedar family that had an emerald jacket.

Watching moss grow is restful and brings peace to the soul.

The old timers say Mountain Ash and snow berries foretell the severity of the coming winter. We didn't happen upon any Mountain Ash but I wonder if these snow berries are harbingers of cold and misery in our part of the country?

In a nearby park there is a big old poplar that serves as a message board for local dogs.

Old man poplar attracts passing dogs. He seems to say, "Come smell the latest news."

We had a refreshing and invigorating walk but it was time to head back home. As I opened the garage door a single leaf blew in to rest on the concrete floor. It seemed to be soaking up a last measure of sunlight before it was placed in the compost bin to complete life's cycle and nourish life anew next spring.

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.