Since when is a writer like moss?

I don’t understand moss. Shallow rooted, persistent beyond belief, it turns up everywhere. It’s in the gravel walkways around our property, taking over the lawn, creeping up trees and hanging from the limbs like gymnasts on a trapeze. In some places wild mosses are overcollected … varieties becoming threatened. That’s definitely not a problem inContinue reading “Since when is a writer like moss?”