Boreal Felt Lichen

Newfoundland may be the last hope for this woolly and (a bit) weird organism

I have never really given lichens the credit or attention they deserve. I realize now I have been too blasé about these extraordinary organisms and I’m not alone in this obliviousness to nature’s wonder. Like many, I would mistake it for dried-out moss or miss it completely. Lichens deserve better. My New Year’s resolution for 2018 is to never take lichens for granted again. Here’s why.

As you may already know (I recognize I am late to the party), lichens are fascinating. The result of a symbiosis between two distinct and dissimilar organisms, they are not plants. Fungi pair up with algae capable of photosynthesis, resulting in something markedly different from either: a new and different living thing results. Because of their unique properties, they can be particularly sensitive to changes in environment. Some lichens are markers and sentinels, like the canary in a coalmine. When air quality declines, these are among the first to show it.

Still, in their own way, lichens can be resilient: in thousands of distinct forms, they occupy about six per cent of the planet’s total land surface, thriving anywhere from sea level to the highest mountain heights, from the heat of the Equator to very near the icy poles. (In his book about one year in the life of a single square metre of woodland, biologist David Haskell observes that “lichens master the cold months through the paradox of surrender.” I mention this mostly for the opportunity to encourage everyone to read this remarkable work.) There is even one type that grows within solid rock.

Here in Canada, I have learned, is

a.k.a. boreal felt lichen. If you know classical Greek, you know already that its scientific name is highly descriptive of its appearance: the prefix erio- is derived from or “wool” and combined with meaning “skin” or “hide.” The term comes from the Latin word for foot and signifies that it features small connecting stalks called pedicles. Its leafy fabric-like surface, usually three-to-five centimetres in diameter, is greenish-slate when wet and grey when dry, white on the underside and limned by curled white edges. It is easy to distinguish from the only two other species of

residing in North America, thanks to its tiny reddish “fruit” on the upper surface. Most variations of are located among the tropical climes of South and Central America. Boreal felt lichen has been found in North American coastal areas, where it grows on trunks and branches of balsam fir in damp boreal forests. It was first collected and identified as a distinct species in 1902 on Campobello Island in the Bay of Fundy by pioneering “plant pathologist” William Farlow. Back then, it was found throughout Atlantic Canada and as far away as Sweden and Norway. (Interestingly, it has been exceedingly hard to find on Campobello since.)

For nearly two decades now, it has been considered a species at risk. The International Union for Conservation of Nature has had it on its critically endangered list since 2003 because in the last three generations (roughly 100 years), it has vanished completely from New Brunswick and northern Europe. As much as 95 per cent of Nova Scotia’s is gone. Other than a recently discovered smallish presence in Alaska, only in Newfoundland’s balsam fir forests does it have critical mass, but losses continue.

The explanation most often heard for the depletion in Nova Scotia and New Brunswick is acid rain and fog caused locally and by prevailing winds blowing in toxins from North America’s industries. Forestry, road incursions and development are the challenges facing Newfoundland’s population, largely centered in the Baie d’espoir area.

Boreal felt lichen is protected under the federal Species at Risk Act and listed as endangered by the Committee on the Status of Endangered Wildlife in Canada. Still, many experts say lichens’ lack of “charisma” presents another challenge: nobody notices as the population continues to dwindle and with it hope for this 400-million-year-old species’ survival. That’s why I am committing myself to paying attention, to liking lichens in 2018.