Silver River near Ocala FL second pic is the shadow of my 18’ kayak on the river bottom, probably 20 feet deep there
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Grey beards gather over gossamer matter,
particulate matters that did,
these limbs will floss as wind rolls in moss,
sun threading the canopy that’s over id.
And let us not forget the insults (and cattle) hurled over parapet walls by the French, “You English Canigget!”
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May 3, 1901 sparks from a kitchen fire sparked fire in spanish moss at a nearby mattress factory. It burned down Jacksonville, Fl. It was the lasgest metro fire in the south.
https://www.floridamemory.com/learn/exhibits/photo_exhibits/jacksonvillefire/
Back then theyd wash and dry the moss to get rid of the bugs .
LOL! So it was the French and Spanish that were doing the name calling. The English probably called it both names in retrospect. Those 3 powers were rivals in the new world. Thanks for fact checking my story.
When I was running the local swamp as a kid with my friends, we would look for trees with old moss on them.
Ever seen a 40’ Roman candle?
Burned so fast that it barely singed the trees.
One thing you never want to do is use moss for TP. I have never seen a snake in it, but know for a fact the red bugs (chiggers) live there.
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Beautiful but,
Spanish moss isn’t a parasite but its will crowd out all the leaves and the tree dies eventually. You can often see mature pecan groves not producing because of either being chocked out by moss or old trees not reproducing.
That end during tropical storms, high winds, leaves blow off but moss not so much giving the tree a lot of aero drag causing wet souls to give and tree fall over.
The other reason to have the arborist come out and thin out the tree.
Miller’s Island Light House, Maryland
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A mighty wind comes blusterin’
as Bay Avenue is musterin’,
that somber, lonely, streetlight halo hue.
The drink chops bloated strut
comin’ down Rhodes Point Gut.
There’s no headway fleeing Parks Ditch up what’s slough.
Stars ‘n Stripes and Calvert’s Cross
snap to winds that flail like floss
halyard lines thrummin’ in some gaelish stylin’.
Stand before PVC’s pickett.
Tylerton is weathered wicked.
Put up your paddle, Chesapeake climbs Smitty’s island.
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Valhalla kneels upon the sea.
A Summerland rose up for me,
I’ll stand and stare on treasure trove.
My heaven flows within this cove.
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That tree with the roots. Amazing.
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Celia in her Romany, back of Cow Island off Friendship, Maine (last Saturday before it rained for 24 hours straight).
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