I promise you the salient points of this post aren't lost on me, but can we go back to the moss for a second?
I have a book recommendation for you: "Gathering Moss: A Natural and Cultural History of Mosses" by Robin Wall Kimmerer.
I have never read it, but I read Kimmerer's "Braiding Sweetgrass," and it deepened my appreciation of life (something I think, given your rhapsody, you'd be into even though the book has no swords or sorcerers, not a one). It also made me buy rubber waders, drive out to a nearby BBQ stand bordering a pond, and walk past confused onlookers down an embankment full of brambles, and right into the muddy water to gather cattail leaves.
If you read "Sweetgrass," you'll never see pond scum or chestnuts or cattails the same way again, and I expect "Gathering Moss" would do the same with mosses. As a side, I think, you will feel a lot less solitary in the presence of plants.
I promise you the salient points of this post aren't lost on me, but can we go back to the moss for a second?
I have a book recommendation for you: "Gathering Moss: A Natural and Cultural History of Mosses" by Robin Wall Kimmerer.
I have never read it, but I read Kimmerer's "Braiding Sweetgrass," and it deepened my appreciation of life (something I think, given your rhapsody, you'd be into even though the book has no swords or sorcerers, not a one). It also made me buy rubber waders, drive out to a nearby BBQ stand bordering a pond, and walk past confused onlookers down an embankment full of brambles, and right into the muddy water to gather cattail leaves.
If you read "Sweetgrass," you'll never see pond scum or chestnuts or cattails the same way again, and I expect "Gathering Moss" would do the same with mosses. As a side, I think, you will feel a lot less solitary in the presence of plants.
So maybe don't read it?