It was the year 1847. Bryologist Gustav Karl Girgensohn — a researcher of mosses — arrived at an Estonian manor estate because the forests there were old and unexplored. The landowner, von Wulf, allowed him to wander — not because he cared about mosses himself, but because the visit of a scientist sounded refined and important.

Under the spruces the ground stayed damp, even in summer. There, at the edge of shadow and water, Girgensohn leaned over a small hummock and saw a sphagnum moss with more branches than any he had seen before.

Girgensohn named the unusual moss after the landowner, von Wulf: Sphagnum wulfianum.

Sadly, the original site did not survive unchanged. The swampy forests surrounding the manor were drained, built over, and Sphagnum wulfianum no longer grows there at all. I’ve been studying the old maps and scattered notes, trying to understand what the landscape once looked like.

I took a small peatland course some time ago, and that’s where I became fond of this moss. I’d been hoping to come across it ever since. And when I saw it one spring day in the dim spruce forest, I recognised it immediately.

The ground was just as wet, the light just as dim — and there, on the wet ground I found the same species Girgensohn once leaned over.

So lush and green, so firm and softly shaggy. In Finnish it’s called pallopäärahkasammal, literally “round‑headed bogmoss”.

It’s not a very common species here. Sphagnum wulfianum prefers deep shade, steady moisture and old, undisturbed spruce forests — the kind that feel almost closed to the outside world. It doesn’t shout for attention, but once you know what to look for, it’s unmistakable.

There was something grounding about it — the idea that this same moss had caught someone’s eye almost two centuries ago, and here it was again, unchanged, doing exactly what it has always done.

This moss is one of Finland’s responsibility species, one of the species for which Finland carries a special responsibility. It feels fitting that this moss grows here, hidden deep in Finland’s northern forests.

Share Grow Wild in Forest Soil

In March, people walking on the sea ice in the Gulf of Finland were surprised. The ice was bright red. The sight was almost surreal. However, it was a natural phenomenon. The cause was bladderwrack, and the phenomenon was actually very positive.

Bladderwrack is a species of brown algae with tough, olive‑green fronds. It has a leathery texture and contains air-filled bladders that keep it floating toward the surface. It can live at depths of up to 10 meters, although it is most commonly found at around 2.5 meters.

Bladderwrack once nearly disappeared from the Finnish coast, but its population has since recovered. It shelters young fish and countless small organisms — shrimp, amphipods, isopods, mussels, and sea snails. These, in turn, feed many fish species and coastal birds. Large amounts of bladderwrack washed ashore also play an important role as egg-laying sites for grass snakes.

Bladderwrack is an indicator of the state of underwater nature. That is why the red-colored sea ice, despite its dramatic appearance, was actually a positive sign.

Bladderwrack has always been a resourceful species — a quiet treasure of the shoreline. It has been used for dyeing yarns and fabrics, as fertilizer, for soil improvement, as famine food, and as a traditional remedy. Today, it is also used in cosmetics due to its antioxidant properties and its ability to support collagen production.

Yet its deepest work happens where no one sees it. It remains one of the Baltic Sea’s most important foundation species. Somewhere in the slow sway of the Baltic, the bladderwrack keeps doing what it always does, holding the coastline together, its quiet work continuing beneath the waves.

Share Grow Wild in Forest Soil

Hair frost is a very interesting phenomenon, which I came across for the first time this year in December.

Hair ice forms on decaying broadleaf wood during calm, freezing weather. It gets its name from its hair-like structure, created by ice filaments only a hundredth of a millimetre thick. They are therefore about the same thickness as human hair. These “hairs” can grow surprisingly long if the place is sheltered. In such conditions, they even become curly, believe it or not.

Hair ice does not form due to frost alone; it also requires the help of a fungus called Exidiopsis effusa. When decaying wood freezes, internal pressure builds up, forcing excess moisture out through the fungus’s fine filaments. As this moisture is pushed to the surface of the wood, it freezes into hair-like formations.

What is particularly interesting is that only about ten years ago was the role of the fungus Exidiopsis effusa in the formation of hair ice fully understood. This makes one wonder how many things fungi influence behind the scenes, without us even realizing it yet.

Share

This weird fungus has many descriptive names: strawberries and cream, the bleeding tooth fungus, the red-juice tooth and the Devil’s tooth. These names comes from it’s behaviour. In damp conditions, it exudes bright red droplets on its surface.

It forms ectomycorrhizal relationships with conifer roots. It’s found mainly in North America and Europe. It’s not poisonous, but not edible either — it tastes very bitter. It has been used in natural dyeing.

This fungus produces atromentin, a compound with blood-thinning and antibacterial properties. Its cap is young and velvety, with a pale brown flesh and brown spore print, and the underside is covered in short, dense spines.

When I first saw this fungus a few years ago, I was truly amazed. I had never seen anything so extraordinary. Often this fungus is pale or brown, without those droplets. Then it is easily overlooked. So you have probably come across this fungus too, even if you haven’t seen it in this dripping outfit.

Share Grow Wild in Forest Soil

This fungus belongs to the jelly fungi group and grows on tree trunks, decaying the wood. It has a strikingly bright orange color and comes to life with the rain, drying and disappearing again when the weather turns dry. It can be found throughout the year, and you can often spot them shivering on branches even from beneath the snow.

It is edible, though rather tasteless.

Species of this genus have been found to stimulate the immune system, reduce inflammation, lower blood sugar and cholesterol levels, protect the liver, and help prevent allergies.

Share Grow Wild in Forest Soil

The moon jellyfish is the only jellyfish found in Finnish waters. Although it is a native species, it still feels almost tropically mysterious to us northern dwellers.

We see them regularly, but a few years ago we had an amazing encounter while vacationing in Hanko, the southernmost town in Finland. There were so many moon jellyfish. My son was thrilled — he lifted them into his hand. I let him catch one in a jar to take a closer look.

They eventually drift ashore and die. A new generation waits as larvae on the seabed for spring and the warming of the waters.

Share Grow Wild in Forest Soil

I met this leopard slug during an evening walk. It was dark, but I couldn’t not notice that large slug. Leopard slugs are active at night. It eats decaying plant matter. They also eat other slugs and carrion.

It spread to Finland in the late 1800s and is found in old gardens, being nonetheless very rare. A single slug can live up to three years. It can grow to over 20 centimeters long. I read that someone at first thought it was a snake when they saw one on their terrace.

Its mantle is always mottled, though it can sometimes appear almost entirely dark. I moved this one to my garden to keep it safe.

Share Grow Wild in Forest Soil

This plant gets its name from its unusual ability to grow both on land and in water. In aquatic habitats, it can form extensive stands covering thousands of square meters. It grows in lakes and ponds at depths of over two meters, and can also be found on fields, riverbanks, and ditches.

Water knotweed blooms usually only in water, which makes it so exciting plant. When in bloom, vast mats of delicate flowers ripple across the water’s surface, turning lakes and ponds into floating gardens.

I discovered one of these water-garden mats while paddleboarding in the summer, and the view was absolutely stunning. I wrote a poem about it — read it by clicking the note below.♡

Share Grow Wild in Forest Soil

This mushroom woke me with its bright purple color when I was wading through the undergrowth. It was growing on a tree stump, and its surface looked slightly fuzzy, almost like it was covered with a delicate layer of soft hair.

The silverleaf fungus can naturally prevent sprouting from birch and aspen stumps, significantly reducing regrowth and providing a biological method to manage forests and utility corridors while avoiding other harmful interventions in nature.

Share Grow Wild in Forest Soil

This lichen really made me smile. One very big rock was completely covered with these flower-like graffiti. It grew on an island in Päijänne National Park, close to the shoreline.

There is no official name for it — not in Finnish or in English — so we called it the Marimekko-lichen. (If you don’t know what Marimekko is, just Google it!)

The edges of this lichen are orange, with black spores in the middle. I can’t be 100% sure of the Latin name — it might be Porpidia striata or Porpidia macrocarpa. If I could name this species, it would be something floral.

Share Grow Wild in Forest Soil