“spanish moss”
by hanako ohashi
when the air is still,
they look like bedroom sheers
or long brushstrokes through a wet canvas
when the air stirs,
they appear as slow-dancing spirits
or the underside of a waterfall
gently cascading, extending,
shifting, any way the wind blows
artist statement
some fun facts i recently learned about spanish moss: turns out it’s neither spanish nor moss. it’s a flowering plant that’s native to the warm, humid climates of the caribbean islands and southern united states. it’s an epiphyte, which means it doesn’t harm or take any nutrients from the tree; instead, it absorbs nutrients from rainfall and dust in the air. a humble guest, one might say. it’s quite sensitive to pollution so it only grows where the air quality is adequate. in New Orleans, spanish moss can be found draped over live oak trees. in city park, where these photos were taken, these majestic trees range between 300 and 800 years old.
spanish moss reminds me of weeping willow branches, which is why i was immediately drawn to it as the subject of my submission to WILLOWS: the CATKINS issue. willow trees and spanish moss both seem to walk a fine line between stillness and motion, wavering back and forth between the two states by circumstances beyond their control. this is not unlike my own life, moving through phases of stagnancy and activity in seemingly spontaneous ways. right now, i feel a momentum emerging from an extended lull, but i don’t know where it’s coming from. maybe it’s the warmer weather. maybe it’s the feeling of summer around the corner. either way, i’m riding the proverbial wave, much like these billowing plants catching the wind.