Moss Mystic

Moss Mystic©

Today I drove an hour and a half to walk for an hour and a half through the temperate forest I know so well at North Cascades National Park. The drive gives me time to ponder and the walk to blend into the forest. The Autumn scent of wet forest is sublime. The ancient western redcedars, Douglas firs, Pacific yew fill my spirit with vitality.

It’s quiet here but for the Douglas squirrels and an occasional Pacific wren scolding me. It feels good to be immersed and alone in the forest (except for my little dog Templeton) knowing that bear and cougar roam these woods. And wolves aren’t so far away.

The recent rain has brightened the greens and browns of the forest, especially the mosses. Moss lines the tree trunks, rocks, logs, and ground. Mosses and mushrooms carpet the forest floor. The mosses are too wet to lie on today, but on a drier day what better place to lie down and daydream than a thick soft bed of moss.

Lichens clothe the branches of vine maples whose leaves have changed color and are quickly dropping to the ground.

The rich and deep brown of the soil is buried under the humus of centuries of pine, yew, and fir needles, cedar fronds, leaves of cottonwood, maples, Oregon grape, salal, huckleberry, fronds of sword, deer, bracken, and oak ferns, molted bird feathers, dead animals and insects, animal scat, rain, eroding rock, fallen rotting trees, pine and fir cones all piling up and decomposing so that others might grow and feed and die.

As I head back to the truck, the sky darkens threatening heavy rain. Rain showers erupt from clouds dampening ground and sound. I scramble to the truck and drive down the highway to an area next to the “Magic” Skagit River to enjoy the sound of heavy rain along the roar of the river.