Moss

We've had plenty of rain for the past month or so, which, for some of us, has been lovely. The rain makes everything so green and vibrant and drippy. The ferns on the edge of our woods have never looked so radiant, and when the sun comes out in the evening it heightens the effect. Of course, the moss is thick and rich and covers every square inch that never sees the light of day. There's a place down by the river where trees have long ago fallen, tree on tree, as if in a tornado; and there they've lain, year on year, for decades. They are simply dripping with moss, and I wonder at the amazing life-forms they harbour.
So, I looked up this old word "moss' in the dictionary, and certainly wasn't surprised to read that it is 'any of various green, usually small, non-vascular plants of the class Musci of the division Bryophyta.' All very interesting, no doubt, but my eyes slid down the column and landed on 'mossback', and was absolutely fascinated to learn that a mossback is '1. an old shellfish or turtle(!) with a growth of algae on its back, and 2. an old, large, or sluggish fish, and 3. one extremely conservative or old-fashioned.' It was as if I was standing in front of a watery mirror! This is exactly how I've been feeling for at least a week: old, large and sluggish! I even mentioned to My Best Friend the possibility that I'd been bitten by the African tsetse fly which, by way of the infamous trypanosome, causes, among other nasty diseases, sleeping sickness. But this is not so at all. I am merely feeling the effect of all this rain, and have turned into a dear old mossback! What a relief!