Haldon Forest, Devon: I’m drawn to the mosses on a tree stump, each species taking its own portion of the bark

Mist sweeps across the valley, swirling around the treetops. Yet, it is a small light beneath the beech canopy that draws my attention, where dense mosses cloak a tree stump. The mosses are careful neighbours, each species taking its own portion of the bark. The deeper tones of Polytrichum formosum, bank haircap, border the lighter Hypnum cupressiforme, Cypress-leaved plait-moss. The former’s darker, pointed leaves make its neighbour’s shiny shoots all the more pronounced.

Looking up from these variations in green, a fat raindrop lands in my eye. After the shock of the intrusion, I open it again and turn it back to the mosses. It feels cleansed: as after a spritz of ethanol across a microscope lens, I am seeing more clearly. The rain is also changing the moss. Water lands on the leaves and on the tips of scattered sporophytes – slender shoots topped by capsules containing spores. Tiny raindrops settle on the capsules like a sprinkling of glitter.