in my yard is spreading, climbing up the hill from the maple-shaded glen, sprawling over small boulders, softening them. In an electric green revival after a long winter, it reaches as if it wants to touch everything that can be touched. It’s even beginning to carpet the less moss-friendly sunlit patches of lawn. I say lawn, but it’s not really a lawn in the traditional sense. In fact, you would be hard-pressed to find actual grass in it, unless you count the crabgrass that grows with the weeds.
Mothering Moss
Nov 25, 2022
3 minutes
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