Edited by Dava Sobel “In the Mojave Desert, a translucent crystal offers bryophytes much-needed respite from the heat of the sun.” —New York Times For hypolithic mosses, it seems, four percent of daylight is right. They live, the headline says, by sheltering under a parasol of translucent quartz. The crystal scatters the light’s ultraviolet, dilutes its heat, traps the night’s condensed moisture to moss-sized rain. I think of these mosses and consider. Perhaps we, too, are mosses, evolving to the parch of our self-made Mojaves. Unable to bear the full brightness, the full seeing. To recognize fully the Amazon burning, the Arctic burning, the Monarchs’ smoke-colored missing migration. An experiment not meant to last. And yet we found shelter within it, we pondered our lives and the lives of others, thirsted, slept. To the implausible green of existence, for-better, for-worse, we offered our four-percent portion of praises, for-better, for-worse our four-percent portion of comprehension. This article was originally published with the title "Mosses" in Scientific American 327, 5, 28 (November 2022)doi:10.1038/scientificamerican1122-28Read More