reverse threading

the path back is the path forward

Tag Archives: lichen


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lichen. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

it becomes clear looking down the trailmarker. the clearest place – with the most clarity in focus – is the very middle. it blurs on the edges, in the foreground and that section which is furthest away. but the middle. clear enough to see the drying grain of the wood. clear enough to see the tiny spores of lichen. lichen in the foreground. lichen furthest away. all blurry. but clear – there – in the middle.

lichen is a symbiotic partnership – it is a mutualistic relationship of fungus and algae, living together. lichen are not parasitic – they thrive, but do not feed on others. instead, they depend intimately on each other for survival, getting nutrients from the air, trapping particulates, absorbing small pollutants – their very presence an indicator of air quality.

lichen are tolerant of extremes and resilient in growth. they are considered a biomonitor in assessing the health of the environment in which they dwell.

we approach the trailmarker. it’s a sunny day, beautiful really. we are on our way back to the trailhead. it’s been miles of hiking.

we are refreshed and tired, both. we are happy to be together on this path. it is familiar and, this time, we don’t need the marker to know where we are or how far we have to go.

but the markers are there – in most of the trails we hike. some are less obvious, like cairns in the high mountains. they help us find the way, help us know – more clearly – where we are. even if what was before is fading and what is ahead is blurry and unknown, the trailmarker gives us a bit of certainty in the moment – the only certain thing.

the lichen draws my attention – soft greens and mustard yellows. i wander over to the marker to photograph it. i don’t know a lot about lichen so i google it later.

their place in the world – these tiny organisms – is astounding. their ability to co-exist, their thriving together, how integral they are in giving back – all inspiring.

apparently, they are a little more pure, higher up on the love-one-another chain than humans.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this NOT-SO-FLAWED WEDNESDAY

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myths. [d.r. thursday]

he reassured me that – were we to be lost in the woods, deep in the forest, without our alltrails app, without google maps, without a gps of any sort – we could determine north by the side of the trees on which the lichen was growing. “that will be the north side,” he told me, adding, “and with that important information, we would be able to find our way.”

uh. nope.

i just looked that up and it is a myth. whattheheck?

just exactly how are we to know which things we have learned are myths and which things we have learned are not? this is a confusing and complex problem. particularly at moments – like in the woods, lost – when one would think, “wait! i can help! the lichen! look at the lichen! it grows most profusely on the north side. we can find our way out!”. which old wives’ tales are true and which aren’t?

we have found, lately, that the real truth of the matter is that everyone is pretty much making up everything. it’s all on-the-fly. wives’ tales and all.

the monsoon rains came on sunday after a perfectly-perfect day on saturday. “seven inches of rain possible,” the accuweather app read, “areal flooding. flash flooding. turn around. don’t drown.”

we hoped it would go around our town, just a bit to the west (or the east over the lake) and just skirt around us. but no such luck. it downpoured. at exactly the wrong angle and velocity for our house. in the middle of gathering chimney-work estimates, the rain battered the compromised chimney. in the basement, i made it up and laid towels to direct the rivulets of water (complete understatement) that were coming in, hoping i was making a difference. we crossed our fingers and wished for the storm drains to keep up. we turned to the north, looking for the way out of the forest.

because it was truly torrential, everyone around us was having issues. the huge tree in our neighbor’s yard fell and we kept looking up, standing out in the rain, waiting for the city to come and help them. the trees to our north are the ones that worry us the most in our own yard. there is no lichen on them. we laid down tarps on the deck along the house trying to keep the water from pooling along the siding and foundation. we got sopped in all our making-it-up. i wondered what else we could do, besides wait. but there wasn’t much. we kept vigil on the basement and on the trees to the north.

and we didn’t get a cold from standing out in the rain. another myth.

*****

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