I have always loved to see moss cozying up to the feet of trees, draping over decomposing logs, and cushioning rock surfaces with luxuriant velvet.
A neat thing about mosses is that to get to know them in their natural habitat you must usually get down on your knees. Doing so immediately takes you out of your usual way of looking and perceiving and engages you physically.
Your hands and knees ground you at four points. Perhaps your trousers get damp and a little dirty. You feel the different textures of the leaf litter and inhale the perfume of the humus. You stroke the furry surface of the moss and it tickles your hands.
Mosses will divulge many of their secrets, through the use of tools like hand lens, microscope, and field guide. Different families among the bryophytes are easily distinguished but species identification can be very challenging. I like to think of bryophtyes as a phenomenon, a clan of diverse members, sharing kinship not only among themselves, but as ancestors of other land plants. In some ways they are strikingly similar even to us mammals.