To A Better Year

Day 79: It goes without saying that most of us are glad to see the back of 2020, but the new year opens with a number of situations which could send us from bad to worse. I learned long ago not to utter the words, "What else could possibly go wrong?" because as swiftly as I spoke them, the universe invariably would take up the challenge and give me a demonstration. There is no doubt in my mind that it could be worse, far worse, but as surely as lichens and mosses weather droughts, we have it in us to pull through if we follow their examples of cooperation and tenacity. As a practicing shaman, I draw many life-lessons from Nature. Sometimes she is a cryptic instructor; leading, but leaving her pupil to draw conclusions independent of her tutelage. Or sometimes she is less than patient, and gives a brisk swat upside the head when she feels it's merited. Yet the lesson of the lichen is clear: without the cooperative venture of three partners (fungus, alga and yeast), the community of these remarkable structures would fail. Thus, dear readers, my wish for you in the coming year is that you will learn to live as the lichens do, and that Nature will repay you in kind for your gentle treatment of her creatures.

Dances With Hypogymnias

Day 30: Okay, I'm usually really bad about seeing figures and faces in clouds and so on, but this one kinda leapt out at me. I took the photo at this angle because I wanted to show the tips of the lobes. I thought they looked like toes, and since several friends have asked me about the "Dead-man's Fingers" fungus lately, it seemed particularly timely. I did not see the face in the upper left quadrant until I opened the photo on the computer. I'm not sure I'd want to dance with her, though...just look at the size of those feet!

Hypogymnia enteromorpha is very similar in appearance to H. apinnata, but whereas the latter grows on conifer wood, enteromorpha is more accepting of dry-wood substrates such as old cedar fenceposts. Both have constrictions in their lobes and dark medullary ceilings. Chemical testing will separate the two if no other diagnostics are available.

Lichenscape

Day 104: I love my fence, although it's a source of great frustration. It supports an astonishingly varied lichenscape, mostly Cladonias which unfortunately are very difficult to differentiate. Still, the utter lushness of the colonies give me reason to pause beside the posts on all but the rainiest of days, hoping to find one visual clue to aid in identification. This particular post holds Cladonia parastica among others, that in itself unusual since the species has not otherwise been recorded in the Pacific Northwest. How they arrived alongside my driveway is a mystery, but they respond quite convincingly to any chemical test I've been able to perform. Some day, I may ship a specimen off to an expert in the field, but for now, I'll be content to admire their spires and towers, a city in microcosm along the route to my mailbox.

Cladonia Squamosa

Day 23: Sufficiently variable in form to confuse budding lichenologists, Cladonia squamosa is quite common on the west side of the mountains, most often found on rotting wood. A few points (or lack of them!) are helpful in narrowing down the species, if perhaps not the subspecies. Brown apothecia are uncommon, but if you're lucky, that will give you a starting point as will a dense layer of squamules (scales) on the short, squat podetia (stalks). These squamules dislodge fairly readily and often leave the white medulla exposed. The medulla darkens on exposure, so sometimes the lichen has a brownish tinge. Most diagnostic are the openings at the tips of the podetia (not obvious in this photo). Chemical testing is required to narrow down an identification to subspecies.

Fence Gardening

Day 21: I take as much pleasure in what grows in my garden naturally as I do in the species I carefully cultivate. My rail fence is a wonderland of lichen forms, from squamous and cupped Cladonias to thready Usneas and puffy Hypogymias. They are colourful as well as diverse in shape and size, ranging from lime green through grey-green or sometimes tinted with a blush of orange or pink. The fruiting bodies (apothecia) of the Cladonias dot the colonies with specks of brown and brilliant red, and one could imagine that the faerie folk were decorating for the holidays. A four inch by four inch section of rail may hold a forest of half a dozen species, each one as alien in appearance as the next. Take a closer look at lichens when you're on the trail. You may become as fascinated by them as I am.

Gardening In Miniature

Day 135: It's well-known that I am a complete failure when it comes to growing vegetables, but have a reasonable amount of success with flowers. I tend the flowerbeds fairly regularly in spring, keeping them weed-free until summer activities distract me from their care. I water during hot spells, seldom otherwise, and have identified certain species which are capable of surviving my lackadaisical treatment. That said, my garden is generally a riot of colour from June through September, if completely devoid of anything which might be called organization or scheme. However, in addition to enjoying blooming annuals and perennials, I take equal delight in the miniature landscapes which occupy the cedar split-rail fence: mosses and lichens of all shapes and sizes. Not a dry day passes that I don't stop to look more closely at one of my "garden-variety" lichens when I walk out to get the mail or feed the birds. It pleases me as much to see a colony of Cladonia coniocraea flourishing as it does to have nasturtiums cascading from a hanging basket or cosmos nodding over the sidewalk.