Perhaps you start becoming a part of a place when you notice what’s beneath your feet.
In San Antonio, I got to know the little plants that most people overlook: horseherb, henbit and Santa Maria.
In the Georgia Piedmont, the green beneath your feet, at least in winter, is likely made up of mosses.
Some moss beds here are big. While the lawns in Stone Mountain are brown, some yards are green. The mosses have grown where grass doesn’t. In some places, they’ve taken over.
Asphalt streets have green spots, some of which are impressively large. I’ve seen moss beds in areas of “alligator cracking.” That’s what engineers call the pattern of cracks that looks like an alligator’s hide. It means that the road’s base is failing.
I’ve also seen smaller mosses growing directly on smooth asphalt. I’m guessing the rainfall here is sufficient to wash nutrients into the road.
For the moment, I’m guessing — wildly — that this hardy little moss that I've seen on asphalt is White Awn Ash, Grimmia laevigata. But I’m lost when it comes to mosses. I am looking for a good book on Phylum Bryophyta.
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