Fern Gully

Barley, a dog, trots along a forested path alongside a series of large ferns.

I’ve had a soft spot for ferns ever since they became tied conceptually to dinosaurs in all manner of illustrations. Famously old, their ancestral roots go back over 400 million years. Since they predate the evolution of flowering plants, and are so strongly tied by scientific illustration to the dinosaur period, ferns have felt “old-fashioned” to me for as long as I can remember. Now, encountering them as I often do with Barley in tow, I have a newfound appreciation for how conveniently they are shaped: Broad enough for Barley to peek under inquisitively, but floppy enough to be easily brushed aside as needed and growing from a rugged central cluster that I don’t need to worry about Barley damaging if she rampages through the underbrush.