"Perhaps we all hunger for colour." I've been haunted this week by the story of an American held hostage in Iran starting in 1979. He was kept alone only outside once for 15 minutes in 444 days. He spoke about how he stooped and broke off a blade of grass and hid it in his pocket. That single blade of colour and smell was instrumental to his survival - he could take it out and conjure summer and imagine laying in a field of it. Even the most tenuous connection to the natural world can be a lifeline.
This is an incredible story. And that the smell was important too, not just the sight - sometimes it's easy to forget how nature lights up all our senses, but the idea of not smelling earth or grass or sea or anything not manmade seems almost as terrible as not seeing it. Thank you for sharing this - a perfect example of the power nature has over mind and body. Thank god for that one single blade of grass!
I am enchanted Rebecca, magpies and lichens and treasure hunts... your worlds are like a sweet song in my ears.
I am so lucky to live in a part fo the world where the air is clean (enough) for lichen to grow in abundance. There is a walk I take with my daughter in winter, down a steep path towards a gushing stream where both sides are lined with blackthorn covered entirely in lichen. It is almost luminous at this time of year... the palest of greens imaginable.
Thank you for your beautiful golden and slated variety! 💛
What a beautiful description of lichen, thank you, especially as it lit up your day.
It rained here (in Mexico) and the moss came back so quickly, overnight bright green, just wonderful. Not that we are lacking colour here but that green always attracts my attention.
Your whole essay is gorgeous-- what a lovely journey on this cold January day. But this passage made me giggle at the image of your curtsying to the golden boulder:
"There is a single boulder, tall and square, standing up from a rockpool. It is gold-flecked, gold-cushioned, gold-skinned, gold-scaled. I feel like I have stumbled upon royalty; as if this rock, all dressed up in its crown jewels, might expect me to curtsy."
I remember learning about the strange symbiosis of lichen on a visit to the Harvard Museum of Natural History-- such a delightful story. But their story didn't include the detail of the fungi growing arms that reach out towards the algae and scoop it up.... oh!
And the image of the spider leaving a trail of sunburst in its wake!!!
Yes I share your curiosity Mariella! I know most writers only learn this by reading deeply. Her work has the softest almost ethereal qualities - extremely delicate and light in a way that seems too perfect for this world. Each piece a truffle freshly dug from a hidden oak grove.
What a welcome burst of colour for you. One of the first things that struck me here were the lichens that seem to drip from the trees. They are fascinating things, if a little more muted than your sunburst. Reading this, I couldn’t help but mentally pair lichen with the wonderful ice crystals we had yesterday. A Romeo and Juliet of sorts! Thanks for the inspiration Rebecca.
I was just talking with someone yesterday about how we miss seeing trees adorned with lichen (having very few trees here). I love the image of trees 'dripping' with them! And yes to a Romeo and Juliet of winter delights! It is just what we need in January.
So gorgeous! I've just signed up to Substack and was poking around to find something to read and your title 'between two seas' and the humpback drawing drew me in. I'm also a biologist who has done work on cetaceans. But you're not the Rebecca Hooper of Exeter Uni who has done research on killer whales, are you?
Hi Tracey, I'm so glad you stumbled upon between two seas! I am indeed that rebecca hooper, although I'm now writing rather than science-ing. So great to have you here! What cetaceans have you worked with?
Hi Rebecca, sorry for delayed reply. I’ve only now logged back into Substack. This is me: Tracey Rogers UNSW Sydney. I came across your work as Jane one of students is doing work on killers off the east coast of Australia. Love your science but I understand your dive into writing – it is exquisite.
I have been photographing lichens at Torrs Warren in Dumfries and Galloway. I have been fascinated by the variety of colour and texture. Love yours! Enjoyed reading this today. Thank you Rebecca.
'Give us rusted metal, give us sea glass, give us feathers, shining pebbles, shells. We will adorn our homes and hearts with these talismans; we will stave off the grey until the golden light returns'. - wonderful, how it draws me in
I've been saving this post to read when I had time to wallow in it, and I'm so glad I did. The writing is beautiful! I can see the grays of the rainy days, and I am right there with you in awe when you find the liche-covered gold boulder. Just lovely!
What a beautiful piece, Rebecca! I knew that lichen had a symbiotic relationship with algae, but I had no idea of all the rest of their quirks. Thank you for sharing! In our rewilding project, we have two woods, Bluebell and Lilac. Sadly they're mostly composed of ash and all the ash trees in the UK are dying from ash dieback disease. During Storm Darragh, we wondered if the trees would come down. In the morning, with some trepidation, I went out to investigate. All the trees had survived, but the ground was covered with teal and turquoise flakes and frills, whole ecosystems of lichen that had been scoured from the bark by the wind.
Thank you Sanjida! Such a shame that the lichen was scoured off the trees but hopefully some of those pieces managed to hook onto a substrate and continue to grow. That image of teal and turquoise flakes scattered on the ground is pure poetry.
Thank you for sharing your magic and color and whimsy— the spoils of your treasure hunt. The world needs more of this. And I too would take lichens over Romeo and Juliet. ;)
This piece put me in mind of the glacier mice, which are a collection of species of moss, not lichen, but which get around on their own, that fascinated me and are on my list to write about. This essay has jumped them to the top of the list. I think that’s another beauty of good writing—that it inspires others to create in similar realms. So thank you again, my friend.
Haha! I was like, WOWWWW when I first met them. I can’t believe I’d sort of forgotten about them until recently. I will for sure bump them up the topic-of-focus list. 😜
"Perhaps we all hunger for colour." I've been haunted this week by the story of an American held hostage in Iran starting in 1979. He was kept alone only outside once for 15 minutes in 444 days. He spoke about how he stooped and broke off a blade of grass and hid it in his pocket. That single blade of colour and smell was instrumental to his survival - he could take it out and conjure summer and imagine laying in a field of it. Even the most tenuous connection to the natural world can be a lifeline.
This is an incredible story. And that the smell was important too, not just the sight - sometimes it's easy to forget how nature lights up all our senses, but the idea of not smelling earth or grass or sea or anything not manmade seems almost as terrible as not seeing it. Thank you for sharing this - a perfect example of the power nature has over mind and body. Thank god for that one single blade of grass!
I am enchanted Rebecca, magpies and lichens and treasure hunts... your worlds are like a sweet song in my ears.
I am so lucky to live in a part fo the world where the air is clean (enough) for lichen to grow in abundance. There is a walk I take with my daughter in winter, down a steep path towards a gushing stream where both sides are lined with blackthorn covered entirely in lichen. It is almost luminous at this time of year... the palest of greens imaginable.
Thank you for your beautiful golden and slated variety! 💛
Ah this has painted the most beautiful image in my mind! Happy walkers in a corridor of glowing lichen 🤍
What a beautiful description of lichen, thank you, especially as it lit up your day.
It rained here (in Mexico) and the moss came back so quickly, overnight bright green, just wonderful. Not that we are lacking colour here but that green always attracts my attention.
Oh how wonderful to see the world bursting with green! I am always shocked by how quickly moss can spring back into life.
Your whole essay is gorgeous-- what a lovely journey on this cold January day. But this passage made me giggle at the image of your curtsying to the golden boulder:
"There is a single boulder, tall and square, standing up from a rockpool. It is gold-flecked, gold-cushioned, gold-skinned, gold-scaled. I feel like I have stumbled upon royalty; as if this rock, all dressed up in its crown jewels, might expect me to curtsy."
I remember learning about the strange symbiosis of lichen on a visit to the Harvard Museum of Natural History-- such a delightful story. But their story didn't include the detail of the fungi growing arms that reach out towards the algae and scoop it up.... oh!
And the image of the spider leaving a trail of sunburst in its wake!!!
I'm so glad you enjoyed it Melanie, and that my almost-curtsy made you smile! Thank you for your lovely comment x
Your writing is beautiful as always. I would be interested in knowing what some of your favorite books and authors are! Perhaps in a bonus post? :)
Yes I share your curiosity Mariella! I know most writers only learn this by reading deeply. Her work has the softest almost ethereal qualities - extremely delicate and light in a way that seems too perfect for this world. Each piece a truffle freshly dug from a hidden oak grove.
Petition for a blog post about her favorite books!
oh I'd love to share some of my favourites! Stay tuned, I will post about them in the next few weeks x
:') so wonderful to read this, thank you so much!!
What a welcome burst of colour for you. One of the first things that struck me here were the lichens that seem to drip from the trees. They are fascinating things, if a little more muted than your sunburst. Reading this, I couldn’t help but mentally pair lichen with the wonderful ice crystals we had yesterday. A Romeo and Juliet of sorts! Thanks for the inspiration Rebecca.
I was just talking with someone yesterday about how we miss seeing trees adorned with lichen (having very few trees here). I love the image of trees 'dripping' with them! And yes to a Romeo and Juliet of winter delights! It is just what we need in January.
So gorgeous! I've just signed up to Substack and was poking around to find something to read and your title 'between two seas' and the humpback drawing drew me in. I'm also a biologist who has done work on cetaceans. But you're not the Rebecca Hooper of Exeter Uni who has done research on killer whales, are you?
Hi Tracey, I'm so glad you stumbled upon between two seas! I am indeed that rebecca hooper, although I'm now writing rather than science-ing. So great to have you here! What cetaceans have you worked with?
Hi Rebecca, sorry for delayed reply. I’ve only now logged back into Substack. This is me: Tracey Rogers UNSW Sydney. I came across your work as Jane one of students is doing work on killers off the east coast of Australia. Love your science but I understand your dive into writing – it is exquisite.
Rebecca,
Wow! Fascinating and beautiful read. A pop of that wonderful color would give joy to anyone under a large abundance of clouds.
I love the symbiotic nature of algae and fungi. If only humans could get along this way, we'd have world peace.
So glad you enjoyed it Beth, and indeed - I think we could all learn a thing or two from our fellow symbiotic creatures!
"In the ash after the wildfire, it is the lichens that come back first." I love lichens a lot. Your way of describing their relationship is exquisite.
Thank you Mary Beth!
Stunning writing, thank you. I loved how you described the steely light of the sea.
Thank you, Jenny! I'm glad you enjoyed it.
I have been photographing lichens at Torrs Warren in Dumfries and Galloway. I have been fascinated by the variety of colour and texture. Love yours! Enjoyed reading this today. Thank you Rebecca.
Oh wonderful, I'd love to see the photos! So glad you enjoyed my lichen wonderings :)
'Give us rusted metal, give us sea glass, give us feathers, shining pebbles, shells. We will adorn our homes and hearts with these talismans; we will stave off the grey until the golden light returns'. - wonderful, how it draws me in
thank you!
I love your writing so much. I am heading to Substack to become a member. Cannot wait for the whale print. The water soothes my soul
Karen, thank you so much! I cannot wait to send a whale swimming on its way to you. I have just sent you a private message x
I've been saving this post to read when I had time to wallow in it, and I'm so glad I did. The writing is beautiful! I can see the grays of the rainy days, and I am right there with you in awe when you find the liche-covered gold boulder. Just lovely!
Thank you Sarah, it makes me very happy to hear that you wanted some wallow-time with these words. So glad you enjoyed it!
What a beautiful piece, Rebecca! I knew that lichen had a symbiotic relationship with algae, but I had no idea of all the rest of their quirks. Thank you for sharing! In our rewilding project, we have two woods, Bluebell and Lilac. Sadly they're mostly composed of ash and all the ash trees in the UK are dying from ash dieback disease. During Storm Darragh, we wondered if the trees would come down. In the morning, with some trepidation, I went out to investigate. All the trees had survived, but the ground was covered with teal and turquoise flakes and frills, whole ecosystems of lichen that had been scoured from the bark by the wind.
Thank you Sanjida! Such a shame that the lichen was scoured off the trees but hopefully some of those pieces managed to hook onto a substrate and continue to grow. That image of teal and turquoise flakes scattered on the ground is pure poetry.
Thank you!
Thank you for sharing your magic and color and whimsy— the spoils of your treasure hunt. The world needs more of this. And I too would take lichens over Romeo and Juliet. ;)
This piece put me in mind of the glacier mice, which are a collection of species of moss, not lichen, but which get around on their own, that fascinated me and are on my list to write about. This essay has jumped them to the top of the list. I think that’s another beauty of good writing—that it inspires others to create in similar realms. So thank you again, my friend.
Ok, WHAT, now I have a new obsession! I had never heard of these. Please write about them soon!!!! 😍
Haha! I was like, WOWWWW when I first met them. I can’t believe I’d sort of forgotten about them until recently. I will for sure bump them up the topic-of-focus list. 😜
Please!! They are so weird and wonderful 😍