Mossy Green

Deep in the Hiawatha National Forest there is the green of moss that covers the giant boulders or "magic rocks" as we sometimes call them.  It isn't the green of leaves or lichen or stems or any other green I can imagine.  It is the green of moss.

Although moss and lichens are both called non-vascular plants, only mosses are plants. Mosses are included in a group of non-vascular plants called bryophytes. Mosses are believed to be the ancestors of the plants we see today, like trees, flowers, and ferns. Lichens, on the other hand, are not similar in anyway to mosses or other members of the plant kingdom.   Although mosses are very primitive, they still have plant-like structures that look like and function like leaves, stems and roots. They have chloroplasts throughout their entire bodies and can photosynthesize from all sides of their structures. (via the US Forest Service)

Carpet of moss....bed of moss....mossy banks. It is the wonderful rich smell of the earth.  It is the GREEN that takes your breath away. 

Moss-Gathering, by Theodore Roethke

To loosen with all ten fingers held wide and limber
And lift up a patch, dark-green, the kind for lining cemetery baskets,
Thick and cushiony, like an old-fashioned doormat,
The crumbling small hollow sticks on the underside mixed with roots,
And wintergreen berries and leaves still stuck to the top, --
That was moss-gathering.
But something always went out of me when I dug loose those carpets
Of green, or plunged to my elbows in the spongy yellowish moss of the marshes:
And afterwards I always felt mean, jogging back over the logging road,
As if I had broken the natural order of things in that swampland;
Disturbed some rhythm, old and of vast importance,
By pulling off flesh from the living planet;
As if I had commited, against the whole scheme of life, a desecration.

Looking around on the internet I find all kinds of resources to help in this sudden rush of moss research.   Moss Plants and More  is an interesting blog being kept by JM Budke who writes; I am a postdoctoral research fellow in the Department of Plant Biology at the University of California, Davis. My research focuses on moss plants.  This blog lists several other interesting sources including the IAB blog (International Association of Bryologists). The latest entry brings me right back to where I am - in the Upper Peninsula

June 18, 2013—

The International Association of Bryologists has awarded its Hattori Prize to Janice Glime, professor emerita of biological sciences at Michigan Technological University, for her online encyclopedia, “Bryophyte Ecology.”
The Hattori Prize recognizes the best paper or series of papers published by a member of the association within the previous two years.  Glime has completed two volumes on this group of diminutive plants that includes mosses, liverworts and hornworts:  “Physiological Ecology” and “Bryological Interaction.” A portion of the third (“Methods”) is available online, and she has at least two more volumes pending.
“Bryophyte Ecology” is read worldwide both as a text and reference. While scientifically rigorous, it is written in a conversational style. “I hope to make bryology more accessible to students who have no mentor in the field and to stimulate interest among ecologists, naturalists and educators,” Glime said. “A book such as this is dependent on scientists in many fields, all over the world.”

 And I also want to mention Moss Musings, just because it is such a kicky sounding name.  Written by certified moss freak Nancy W. Church, there hasn't been a post since last year (where are you Nancy??).  It does include an entry about moss myths though -

Moss Myths

I regret having to break it to those who are navigationally challenged, but moss does not grow only on the north side of a tree.  It is found there predominantly because that side is generally more shady (in the northern hemisphere, that is).

And, despite having names that include the word “moss,” plants such as Spanish Moss — an epiphyte, Reindeer Moss — a lichen, Club Moss — a lycophyte (seedless, vascular plant), Irish Moss — a perennial, and Sea Moss — an algae, are not mosses at all. Mildew, unlike moss, is parasitic and requires a host.

 Written on a cloudy afternoon at the St. Ignace Library.

I am a postdoctoral research fellow in the Department of Plant Biology at the University of California, Davis. My research focuses on mosses. - See more at: http://mossplants.fieldofscience.com/#sthash.i7urvsH8.dpuf

I am a postdoctoral research fellow in the Department of Plant Biology at the University of California, Davis. My research focuses on mosses. - See more at: http://mossplants.fieldofscience.com/#sthash.i7urvsH8.dpuf

Matthew Ward, Weeping, and St. Paul's Cathedral (not in any particular order).

One of the funniest people I know is my brother Matt.  Ever since we were kids he has made me laugh. We share a love of books (from our father) and a lot (but not all) ideas about the workings of the world.  Matt would be my go to guy in any kind of crisis.  I know he would be fair and have my back - even if he didn't agree with me.  He is a fantastic cook.  He is a great Dad.

He also weeps openly.  Just like me. Unabashedly.

People Who Openly 

Weep in Public 

Make Things Awkward 

For Everybody

Did you know that there is a FB page with that title?  (People who weep openly make things awkward for everybody).  Frankly I have never looked at it that way - sometimes it just feels good to cry.  If you are a weeper - you can weep for any reason.  You're happy.  You're sad.  You're overcome with emotions that you can't really identify.

Weep copiously
Weep loudly
Weep quietly
Weep silently
Weep openly
Weep unashamedly
Weep bitterly
Weep inconsolably
Weep uncontrollably
Almost weep
Weep a little
Begin to weep
Start to weep
Want to weep
Weep at
Weep for
Weep over
Weep with
Break down and weep
Weep and wail

At Queen Mary University of London you can find the Centre for the History of the Emotions. 
They bill themselves as "the first research centre in the UK  dedicated to the history of the emotions."  Who am I to argue?  The Director of the Centre, Thomas Dixon, writing in the online magazine aeon, talks about the history of tears and how they have been seen and through the lenses of time and culture.

From - Timothie Bright, the English clergyman and physician who "...in 1586 wrote an influential Treatise of Melancholie, whose many readers probably included Shakespeare, which described tears as a ‘kinde of excrement not much unlike’ urine."  YUCK.  Or consider Freud's take "...There are two ideas at the heart of the psychoanalytic approach to tears, ideas that, during the middle decades of the 20th century, entered into psychological orthodoxy among professionals and the lay public alike: repression and regression. The first implies that tears are a kind of overflow or discharge of previously repressed emotion, while the second presents the phenomenon of adult weeping as some sort of return to infantile, even prenatal, experiences and emotions."  REALLY?

This next one I find especially creepy and I have to quote it at length, sorry.

If Freud and Breuer understood weeping as essentially an excretory function, one in which tears could be associated symbolically with other bodily fluids, the psychoanalytic theorists who came after extended this framework in a multitude of weird and wonderful ways. In a couple of articles in the 1940s, the influential American Freudian Phyllis Greenacre put forward the view that neurotic weeping in women was to be understood as a displacement of urination. Involved in this theory was the idea of ‘body-phallus identification’ and the production of tears by women as an attempt to simulate male urination.

Greenacre subdivided the phenomenon into those women who exhibited ‘shower weeping’ and those who displayed ‘stream weeping’. The first type weeps inordinately, shedding floods of tears; the second allows a quiet stream to trickle down the cheek. Both types were explained with reference to a ‘struggle about urination in the infantile period of life’, including a strong element of penis envy. The difference between the psyches of these two kinds of women, roughly speaking, was that the ‘shower’ weeper was sadly resigned to her lack of a penis while the ‘stream’ weeper was still in revolt, harbouring illusional ideas of possessing a male organ and weeping in neurotic imitation of the longed-for male urination observed in childhood.

Weird and wonderful indeed.

If you would like to hear more from Dixon - he did an interesting program on BBC Radio3, called Margaret Are You Grieving.  It is worth a listen.  From the description:  In this programme he explores the history of weeping as an aesthetic response to works of art: paintings, writing, music, theatre and film.  What it is about works of art and religious symbols that induce weeping and why do we shed tears over performances by actors and singers, fictional characters, abstract symbols, poems, music, metaphysical ideas - in other words things that are not real?

Dixon quotes Rothko as saying that he was aware that his works caused people to weep when standing in front of them. Rothko said that he thought that people who wept in front of his paintings were having the same religious experience that he did when he painted them.  Others find them "self-indulgent."  This idea of the religious experience is of interest to me - as I am still thinking a lot about an experience I had in London a couple weeks back.

Black on Maroon (1958)

Black on Maroon (1959)

The Rothko's did stop me in my tracks.  I sat in front of them for what seemed like hours.  His work always has this effect on me.  Sacred texts.  Meditation mandalas of a sort. And you notice that people visibly slow down and become quieter when they enter the gallery where the paintings are hanging.  A gift.

When you leave the Tate Modern you cross the Millennium Bridge (a pedestrian bridge that crosses the Thames) leading you directly to St. Paul's Cathedral.   If you follow that link re: St Paul's,  you will be as

amazed (I think) as I was reading the first sentence:  "For more than one thousand four hundred years, a cathedral dedicated to St. Paul has stood at the highest point in the city.  That is a lot of history in one spot.

As I walked into the Cathedral, Evensong was about to begin.  This is a liturgy in the Anglican tradition. When it is not sung it is simply called Evening Prayer.   It is similar to Vespers in the Roman Catholic and Lutheran Churches.  There are all sorts of other details such as the order of prayers, readings and chants that the choir sings.  They are pretty much determined by the liturgical calendar.

St. Paul's is HUGE.  if you are sitting in the back of the nave or in one of the transepts (the short central arms off the nave) - you can barely see the altar.  Even after you have walked the length of the nave and come to the east end - you still have to look down the length of the quire.  The quire is where the choir and clergy (or royalty) sit during services .  I got as close as I could to the quire and took a seat.

This particular evening the Choir of Clare College, Cambridge was singing. Beautiful. As they began taking their seats and preparing - a gentleman came out to where I was sitting as asked me if I would like to join the choir. Ummm, yes.  I think I would.

My images from the Quire

Sitting there listening - is overwhelming.  You are thinking:  the history, the space, the effect of all of it on you or on someone who lived 500 years ago.  If one is religious or not - you cannot help but think about the role of these great cathedrals on the development of civilization.  There is so much to see that for awhile you are just a bit stunned - trying to take it all in.  And then - it all becomes still - and it is very much like.....sitting in front of the Rothko paintings.  It becomes a way to connect to something bigger - some idea, some divine mystery that is represented in both of them...one in the most ornate of ways, one in the most pared down of ways.  And I wept openly... and thought how nice it would have been had Matt been there.

(Here is the Quire @ Westminster Abbey the day of the last Royal Wedding.  Very similar.  Imagine me sitting there - HA!)

secret gardens

“I am sure there is Magic in everything, only we have not sense enough to get 

hold of it and make it do things for us” ― Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden

 I've been thinking about 'secret gardens' as I have been following the progress of a drawing my niece Anna Rose has been working on.  I love that she posts images on fb so people can see.  The original book, The Secret Garden,  was published in serial form in 1910 - and then in it's entirety in 1911.  It is in the public domain and you can read it here, or listen to it here.  Maybe you saw the 1949 movie with Margaret O'Brien, which is on tv fairly regularly - I think there has also been a Hallmark version and an anime version.  It's a lovely story for children and I suppose for anyone.  The idea (or the fact) of a secret garden has an iconic pull on people.  A space to relax, a space where magic can happen, a space of safety - and of beauty.  I suppose in that states that is often how we see our backyards, and to some extent that is true - but the gardens I have seen here are mostly public.  Some are huge, some are tiny - and they reflect the people who use them, or the people who came before and left them for us to enjoy. Here that can be people who came WAY before us (like this one started by Catherine Medici in the 1600's where I have spent a couple of days this past week).

Two views of the Jardin des Tuileries.

I've seen secret gardens and public gardens all over....they have been here for awhile, many of them,  especially in the older parts of the city (like  in the 18th arrondissement where I am staying).

This one (right) was on the "Ladies Walk" along the River Ness (- yes, it goes to Loch Ness).   

I loved the door - locked - and the clematis along the top of the wall were so thick 

that you couldn't see through them.

These two are from the garden that was across the street from the Goodenough Club (part of Goodenough College) where I stayed in London.  You had to have a key to get into it - and inside there was a place for kids to play, benches and walkways.  The entire thing was pretty much hidden from the outside - except for being able to look through the gate (above).  The image below shows the walkway alongside the garden from my place to the street where the grocers and the cinema were.

_____________________________________

These three are from my neighborhood in Paris.  The top left is a tiny park that is off the square where the metro stop is.  The square is always bustling with people.  There is a carousel and a piano that someone is generally playing (very well).  But the garden is tucked away from the noise and people.  It is cool and quiet.  Top right is a door down the street.  I walk by it most days just to see if it is open because I want so much to see inside.  The lower center image is the little green space that I look down on from my living room window.  It is just a tiny part of the court yard - but I love that someone thought to put it there.  Everyone who lives around the courtyard has a window that looks out on it.

I remember looking closely at urban landscaping a few years ago with Nancy Aten - and learning so much about what the possibilities were for my own city of Milwaukee.  At the time she had us do an exercise where we walked down different parts of Wisconsin Avenue looking for "pocket parks" - little green spaces among the buildings (secret gardens of a sort).  There weren't many of them.  Many of those that did exist were corporately owned - and not necessarily open to the public unless you knew where to look.  There were plenty of little cement slabs "parks"....small places where a few cars could park for a hefty fee.

We think of Milwaukee as a city of parks and it is - especially if you are fortunate to live along Lake Michigan.  Too be fair there are wonderful parks throughout the city.  But again, my time in Europe has reminded me that our cities in the States are not friendly places for walking - for living a lifestyle where walking is encouraged and sustainable. Except for my time at the lighthouse, I haven't been anywhere that I couldn't find a wonderful meal, fresh groceries, a bakery, a good cup of coffee, a cocktail, a pharmacy - and a tiny green space to sit and think within a few blocks (or in most cases a few doors) from where I was staying.

Why you might not (or might) like to travel with me.

I can't keep a schedule.  I try.  I have a list.  But the smallest thing can distract me - for hours.  That can be before I even get out of my neighborhood.  And suddenly that place I was actually on my way too doesn't seem all that important.  I mean do I actually HAVE to see those paintings when this is happening NOW?

So today I happened across L'église de la Madeleine.  (Interesting history in retrospect.) Who can resist a building with a field of pink geraniums gracing its front?

Once inside it is apparent that something is going on and I sit down to watch.  The amazing sculptures behind the altar in the apse - are electric blue and smokey.  Lots of activity on the altar - and suddenly music.  I'm at a rehearsal for a concert that is probably taking place as I write this....

Not sure who these people were or what they were singing - Max or Virg - if you are reading this let me know, okay?  Totally familiar to me in some ways, having sung in a choir and been a part of rehearsals like this.  Look at the hands of the woman leading the choir - they are so elegant and beautiful, aren't they?  These spaces were made for music.   

I was reading something the other day... (will have to look for it - no clue where it was) talking about how the creation of the printed book had replaced cathedral as a place for people to connect to the Sacred.  It makes sense on one hand... but like so many other things, they do not get replaced as much as just go through the evolutionary process of turning into something else.  

The entire experience was a wonderful way to spend the late afternoon.

la Madeleine from Leslie Fedorchuk on Vimeo.

whooooosh travel.

Whoosh travel is when you are seeing too much in too short of a time and your brain shuts down a bit - at least in terms of writing.  The past few days that is my experience.  If this is Monday, it must be LONDON.  Yes - because I just heard the guy in the apartment across the way from me say "chin up" to console whoever it is he is talking to on the phone.

Brief snippet from Edinburgh - not the last of them for sure.  This women, and about 600 of her compatriots were part of an Orange walk on Saturday down High Street.  More about those here

I was surprised - having just seen the Sikhs walking in Toronto in April when I was there for the HASTAC Conference with Courtney.  Two "walks" by two VERY different groups - both featuring the color orange - although technically the Sikhs are sporting saffron.

The politics of the Orange walk are more overt - both by the "walkers" and the response from the people on the street (locals - not tourists).  They (some of the locals) tended to stay in their shops and mutter things like "it's a bad business" or "them lot are trouble - pure trouble."

My friend Dom had given me a little history the day before as he kindly drove me around the city. I've always thought of this as an "Irish problem."  So again - I find myself ignorant of history and wanting to learn more.

 

More info on the Sikhs in Toronto can be found here. Note the politics of the responses - that was pretty evident when we were there - particularly with one waitress who gave us the "lowdown." (Happy CANADA DAY today - to all and sundry - as Muriel would say).

Nice find:  Train station with a little bookstore, enroute from Inverness to Edinburgh.

 King Crossing Station - London.  More later.