I have a special love for mosses, lichens, slime molds, and all the small, weird, primitive things that grow on fence posts and shady forest floors. There wasn’t much of it where I came from–summers were too hot and dry, winters were too snowy-cold.
Here, in the Puget Sound area, it’s everywhere. Every tree of a certain age is covered in it. All our fences. Any neglected patch of ground. I feel lucky to have these things around me. They’re something that takes a long time to appear, and therefore, something valuable. Venerable. Worth having.