September 1962: a group of 11-year-olds armed with hand lenses, members of the school natural history club, sit around a table. The biology teacher Ken Murch, introducing us to wonders of nature that lie beyond the limits of the unaided human eye, hands us a ripe spore capsule of a moss: “Look at this, but breathe on it first.”
Sixty years later, I still carry a hand lens. Today I followed Ken’s instructions again, looking at a capsule of capillary thread-moss, plucked from a wall. A ring of tiny peristome teeth around the capsule mouth, regulating the shedding of spores, clenches and unclenches in response to moisture in my breath. Exquisite natural micro-engineering, as captivating now as it was all those years ago.
