moss

There is something about moss that fascinates me.  I’m not sure I really understand it, but whether in my yard or on a hike, I am always drawn to it.

There is moss growing in my front yard in the grass.  For serious lawn keepers, moss is like the enemy, but I encourage it to grow and I use it often in pots of flowers, faux or real, inside or out.

This is a wire basket of sorts that was hanging on the back of my house last summer with a coco liner and asparagus ferns in it.  I tucked moss in here and there to help fill it out and keep some moisture in the soil, kind of like a mulch.  It was there all winter and everything died or course, but this spring, the moss was growing all on it’s own.

Even though it is alive when I pull it up to spread around plants, it always dies and is then there just for texture, moisture retention, and beautification of the potted plant.  I thought it was a thing of beauty when I found it growing this spring.

In between the pathway pavers in my back yard, I have collected rocks of different sizes to fill in the space between them.  It can be a rather moist area with run off water from the downspouts and some of the areas are nearly covered with moss.

There is a sweetness and simplicity about moss that I find very calming and relaxing.

This little clump of moss actually looks like a tiny fern.

Moss on a rock wall gives it a look of stability and age.

There is the moss that is growing on my old crusty rain barrel that adds a look of ageless elegance to it.

Pretty moss growing in the shady areas of the gravel garden, making everything look more charming.

And little mushrooms that pop up in the most bizarre places . . . here in the crook of the winding wisteria trunks.  Nature is full of delightful surprises . . . if you take the time to look for them.