From the Editor’s Perch…

Editor’s note:  Have your wife and neighbors ever asked you to go out and kill something, and you rebel?

Editor and His Dog Camping


I’m a big fan of moss.  Moss is cool, soft, green, pleasant to the touch and makes for a lovely ground cover, especially on a hot day, while discouraging weeds.  Moss has retained its nature for millions of years.  It evolved to be what it is at about the same time as the little arthropods which crawl across it.  Its nature dates from pre-history.  It arrived just after God I would suppose – perhaps as a second thought.  You find moss on a lot of graves, and in nooks and crannies and on the backsides of things. 


Moss is the sort of plant which will suffer fools.  Moss is what is left after we’ve done all the ‘important’ things we are going to do.  We’ve made that name for ourselves.  We married the leggy blonde and spawned that perfectly proportioned family.  We have more money.  Our politics make yours look like Lincoln logs.  Our kids have done better than your kids.  Plus! they can kick your ass, and we won WWII… did we mention?  Moss is left to coat everything in a lovely, romantic emerald green, kind of like all those dead Irish partisans’ monuments.


Moss is the sort of plant which will suffer fools.  And not, ‘Look at me, I’m lording it over you.  ‘Cause you’re stupid and morally unfit and lazy, besides.’  Moss does not preen, except to try and be the best moss it can be!  Moss-type people find other’s preening to be of interest enough.  And in the end they shall turn it into something nice, and soft, and green… romantic, even.  There’s an endless task for you.

Photos by Carl Nelson

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