#128 - Moss Star

Oh, the moss is everywhere, after the rain. It doesn't even look old, like some moss does, suggestive of age and decay. This moss is bright and young and alive, springing up from the beech mast under the trees, frothing over the piles of logs and cascading down over stumps and brambles. It is like green foam, airy and tumbling. I like the sharpness of it's colour against the wet, red wood, and the wispy arms that remind me of starfish.