This is Lobaria, either oregana or pulmonaria. (Probably the latter.) Common lichen of the North Coast, it completely sheaths some trees – especially apples, for some reason – like a ragged union suit.
I've been a big lichen fan since primary school, when my teacher took us on a walk in the forest beside our school and pointed out several. He explained that lichens are actually two organisms, living in collaboration: a fungal base with an algal or bacterial rider. Together they secure the wherewithal of life for each.
He also said that lichens possess the amazing ability to die in drought and spring to back to life when it rains. I'd seen this happen – the shrivelled grey fuzz on summer trees and rocks, suddenly ballooning three times larger, supple, and fluorescent green in autumn – but hadn't truly remarked it till then.
I promptly collected seven or eight types, dried them to crispy death on a plate in my bedroom, then sprinkled them with water.
Boom: miracle.
Now I can't not see it; neither their sudden absence in August, nor their full-spectrum blitzkrieg in October. In fact, it's among my favourite moments of the year.
Though acid rain endangers European Lobarias, they remain rife here. Some sources say our local species are useful in tea, but while sitting my 100 Days on the Mountain I tried it and ended up with a gen mai that smelled and tasted powerfully of rotten fish. From this I conclude that, like most edible lichens, they're best reserved for survival food.
And you'd have to really want to survive.
But what else would you expect from a class of organisms that includes fairy barf?
Yes. It's really called that.
UPDATE 8 JANUARY 2021: A friend and reader advises me that lichens have been found to comprise two, and as many as three, different fungi, not just one as previously thought. More information here.
0 comments:
Post a Comment