LOST BRITAIN’S RAINFOREST
THIS STORY IS A PLEA FOR the small things, those forms of life that prop up so much of our natural world, yet that we seldom notice. This is a story about lichens, mosses and liverworts.
We may be aware of these lower plants in the vaguest sense, yet for few of us do they become the focus of our attention. They came to the fore for me one day when I stood on the moors of my native Peak District and looked out on the blue-grey-green of the drystone walls stretching far into the distance.
A closer inspection of the wall beside me revealed that the blue-grey-green was not the colour of the stone at all, but of lichen. I wasn’t looking at a stone wall, I was looking at miles upon miles of lichen on a stone wall.
Guy Shrubsole, writer and environmental campaigner, laughs as I describe my moment of epiphany. It is the same with trees, he tells me. “Have you ever seen tree bark? Or have you seen a covering of whatever particular lichen thrives in that area?” he asks.
“Particularly in a temperate rainforest, you’re hardly seeing any tree bark; you’re seeing a massive mat of
