Tricycle | Awake in the World

Every year from as far back as I can remember until I left home to go to college, I would wake up on three or four Sundays each winter to find my dad at war with moss. There were chemicals he could have bought to kill the moss with just a few sprays, but he was wary of them. In our theater of the war, moss stuck on the brickwork and cement of our front porch, and he did not want us kids or my mom to breathe in those chemicals or play in them. Like a true warrior, he would go out there with nothing more than a wire brush and a cushion to sit on and vigorously scrub the moss for the better part of a day. Every year he would try to mix up a safer version of moss killer, usually involving some bleach or vinegar, but none ever worked.