Ball Moss and Small Sins

So what does ball moss have in common with small sins? Well, ball moss clings to a tree, even surviving when a tall, strong tree dies. And those small sins? Do they cling as persistently to me?

All About Trees and Ball Moss

A couple of years ago, a hurricane took out one of a group of three trees and dumped it in the canal beside our property.  Right now, one of the remaining trees is dying. Fewer leaves, fewer flowers, but still the ball moss clings all over. Mostly at the bottom end of the trunk and the lower branches.

I did mind these grey-green tufts of ball moss. I had come to believe they would harm the trees. The arborist who came to inspect and clean out our palm trees, the live oak and the lonely magnolia told me so.

The live oak is at the back of the house, teetering at the edge of another canal. It is enormous, and it is old. It reminds me of a stray old tom cat that has seen a lot, and it shows. A scarred trunk, scraggly branches, sparse leaves, years of neglect have taken their toll.

Here as well, tufts of ball moss flourish. The arborist had much to say about that. And that was after he peeled off some bark and showed me the damage being done by carpenter ants.

Really?

And Small Sins

I always gave those tufts the evil eye as I passed. Pulling down the ones within reach. I equated them to the small sins that cling to me and are well-nigh impossible to get rid of.

Pesky little critters such as thoughts I would not dream of voicing. Being impatient. Procrastinating. Or muttering under my breath about the stupidity of people who can’t see the wood for the trees. Especially those (ahem) who hold different political views. I refer to them as members of The Flat Earth Society. And finally, using the Lord’s name in vain.

And as for that patience thingy, although I know that God’s Ways are not my ways, I get fretful because He is so slow! Can’t He see the world is going to a dark place on a jet plane?

 “For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways,”
declares the Lord.
As the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts (Isaiah 55:8-9).

Researching Ball Moss

I decide to write about ball moss and small sins. Research was called for, and I paid a visit to Mr. Google.

To discover that I had it all rear to front.

No, ball moss is not a parasite that will suck the life out of your tree. Yes, an infestation could disfigure and eventually damage trees, but my ball moss is scattered and no danger to my trees. For the first time, I understood those long stalks with bluish-violet flowers that appeared on the ball moss in Spring. It was not a new and dreaded plant disease. My moss was actually a small flowering plant.

Ball moss is home to all manner of bugs and thus a matter of concern to some people. But those same bugs are food for birds! Even shelter. I read about small fledglings that took shelter overnight in a tuft of ball moss.

And it can be attached to a wreath or tree during the holiday season. Now, equipped with new eyes, I love looking at the tufts. No two are the same. They decorate my trees.

Human Ball Moss

Mulling over all this new information on the much-maligned ball moss, I had an epiphany. What if I was a human ball moss? What good would I bring to my world?

My twin in nature is an air plant with the fancy name of epiphytes. It’s in the bromeliad family, as is a pineapple. It “grows on the surface of another plant and take their moisture and nutrients from air, rain, water or debris accumulating around them” (Ball Moss).

I am firmly attached to my faith, to my God.  I take my nutrients from the word of God. And when I read that my plant double-needed high humidity and plentiful light to thrive, I realized why I had ended up in Florida!

I hope my attitude reflects the tiny and beautiful blue-purple flowers ball moss displays in Spring. The beauty that springs from a rather ordinary-looking object reminds me of Hope. Only, I trust I reflect Hope all year long.

Hope for a better tomorrow. Hope in Dr. Martin Luther King’s immortal words – “I have a dream.”

And my own dream.

And the wolf will dwell with the lamb,
And the leopard will lie down with the young goat,
And the calf and the young lion and the fatling together;
And a little boy will lead them (Isaiah 11:6).

I hope I’m a haven for friends and that they find fellow feeling, acceptance, understanding, empathy, and most of all, love when they visit or call. And I trust I’m a good listener and that the advice I give is the nourishment tiny insects and small birds find in a tuft of ball moss.

And when my time comes, and I’m called home, I pray that memories of me will be comfort and nourishment for the loved ones I leave behind. Family and friends, but also those I never met and only knew through writing.  Who many many times were ball moss to me.

I hope my heritage surpasses that of the nitrogen the dying and decaying ball moss returns to the earth when spent and had fallen to the ground.