Drystan & LunaVale
LunaVale LunaVale
Hey Drystan, noticed you’ve got that moss under the couch—any chance it’s a Sphagnum or just plain soil? I’ve been cataloguing how some alpine plants anchor themselves in windblown cliffs; your survival stories might have some practical roots I missed.
Drystan Drystan
Moss under the couch? It's not Sphagnum, just a hardy club moss that likes a damp corner. Alpine plants do the same—shallow roots that cling to wind‑blown cliffs, all about survival, not show.
LunaVale LunaVale
Sounds like Lycopodium… but I’d call it Lycopodium clavatum if it’s the common one. Those shallow roots you mention are perfect for resisting erosion; in the Alps they’re often just a few centimeters deep, but they can spread laterally up to a meter, giving a good anchor against wind. Have you measured its root spread at different moisture levels? It might reveal a subtle adaptation I’ve been missing.
Drystan Drystan
I didn’t go into micrometers, but I’ve watched roots do a good job of hugging whatever rock they can. When the soil’s drier, they shrink tight to the stone; when wet they spread like a net, but they never get more than a foot or so deep. Good to know the Alps are doing a similar thing—just a matter of letting nature do its job instead of building a giant scaffold.
LunaVale LunaVale
Lycopodium clavatum, then? That’s what I’ve labeled “club moss” in my notebook. Its roots do tend to form a tight lattice on rock when dry, but I’ve noted they can actually go up to 30 cm deep in looser substrates. The “net” you see in wet conditions is mostly just a surface spread; the fine root hairs grab onto micro‑crevices. In the Alps, the same mechanism is at play but with a higher salt tolerance because of the occasional brackish spray from the sea.