Gathering moss
Mosses are making green patterns across the brick walls in my garden. They are erupting from the gaps between pavers in laneways and mixing in with fallen leaves in street gutters. This year they are even creeping down the middle of footpaths. It must be the pandemic-induced drop in pedestrians.
High-pressure hoses will likely have been deployed by the time you read this because, while mosses are diminutive in stature, they stoke big concerns about slipping. Sometimes it’s not the moss but the algae growing alongside that’s hazardous but, either way, not much green growth gets to linger on public walkways.
A checkerboard of moss and paving stone designed by the late great Mirei Shigemori at Kyoto’s Tofuku-ji temple in 1939.Credit:Megan Backhouse
Up walls, over logs and around rocks, however, mosses provide only upsides. They awaken like clockwork after autumn rains, turning the tawny tracery of summer into plumped-up cushions that soften edges, swallow sound and lend an air of maturity.
While the Japanese have been cultivating mosses for centuries, these plants have been around for a lot longer than that. The earliest known moss fossil is estimated to be about 320 million years old with mosses thought to date back up to 450 million years.
A moss garden in Kyoto.Credit:Megan Backhouse
Mosses growing in a garden in KyotoCredit:Megan Backhouse
They reproduce using spores, anchor themselves with rhizoids rather than roots and, with no interior vascular tissue to transport moisture and nutrients, rely on direct contact with water to stay hydrated.
While some mosses need consistent dampness to survive, there are at least 10,000 different mosses hailing from all sorts of climates around the world. Some require periods of dryness and some will tolerate direct sun. More than 1000 are native to Australia.
Botanists have documented Australia’s mosses since the late 18th century and even though an assortment of exotic and native species can be acquired from specialist bonsai, terrarium and aquarium specialists (Dicranum species, for well-drained situations, say, or Fontinalis ones for aquatic spaces), mosses have never become regular nursery fare.
The super-absorbent Sphagnum mosses are the most readily available but are usually sold as dried fibres for use as a moisture-retaining growing medium for some orchids and ferns.
Acquiring living mosses for regular outdoor gardens is often a matter of encouraging the ones that spontaneously appear. Spray them with water to fatten them up; clear them of fallen leaves so they can get enough sun for photosynthesis; weed them.
While some gardeners encourage more mosses to spread on outdoor surfaces by applying a concoction of buttermilk or yoghurt mixed with pureed moss (harvested from gutters, roofs or roads ), a more failsafe method is to simply transplant whole divisions. Slice pieces of moss growing in similar conditions to those in your garden (but never from forests and other natural landscapes) and place it wherever you want it. Water it in well and then, far from treating it with kid gloves, press it, sit on it, even step on it, to encourage the moss’ rhizoids to take hold.
Another option is to get the soft, undulating, cushioning effect of moss with another plant entirely. Scleranthus biflorus is an Australian native with a moss-like texture that sports flowers and is biologically unrelated to moss. Widely distributed in Victoria, Tasmania and New South Wales and sold at many nurseries, it adapts to most soil types.
Sagina subulata is also a flowering plant despite having a mossy look and going by the common name, Irish Moss. Hailing from Europe, Sagina subulata needs full sun to part-shade and some summer water.
For a particularly mossy mood, you could even combine both the real-moss and moss-lookalike approaches. You certainly don’t need the purpose-built slatted-wood structures constructed in some British and American gardens expressly for growing moss when ‘mosseries’ were a thing in the late 19th century.
The Japanese have led the way in making moss gardens that seem entirely natural – even though these spaces are highly orchestrated and require regular weeding, pruning and tidying. Sometimes the mosses in Japanese gardens are carefully arranged so that the textures and colours (everything from lime to black-green) lend particular dramatic effects, such as making it seem as if the sun is shining when it isn’t.
Japan’s damp, humid climate is especially good for growing a wide variety of mosses and some gardens contain more than 100 different types so that even a modest slice of downtown Kyoto can resemble a rainforest.
But mosses aren't all about aesthetics. They can also stop erosion, provide habitat, absorb pollution and, on buildings, provide insulation. They can be fragile too. Some Japanese gardeners are reporting that the recent hotter and dryer conditions are causing some mosses to deteriorate.
Global warming is expected to reduce the chances of long-term survival of Sphagnum peatlands in Tasmania, Victoria and New South Wales – natural habitats that already have environmental protections as a result of numerous other threats to their sustainability.
Whichever way you look at it, now is a good time to make the most of the mosses appearing of their own accords.