Field note: Moss Crust

Between the trunks of the woodland it smells of resin and damp bark.

Today I come across a Moss Crust — large · piebald · tail · sparks.

A crust believes itself invisible as long as it does not move. You find it anyway — by the crunch.

If you want to meet one yourself: Woodland, Highlands. It cannot be caught — only won over.

— from the Wanderer’s notes

The next one appears tomorrow — a new species every day.

Earlier notes