You have to get low to appreciate the
water fern. Kneel by the edge of a pond. Look at the green film on the surface. At first glance, it looks like duckweed. A green scum. Nothing special. Then you look closer. Each tiny plant is a fern. A real fern. It has branching stems, overlapping leaves, and roots that dangle in the water. It is a miniature forest floating on the surface. Each plant is no bigger than your fingernail. The scale is deceptive.
Size and colour make it special. The
water fern is tiny. Each plant is one to two centimetres across. It grows in colonies. Hundreds of plants per square metre form a green carpet on the water. In summer, when conditions are right, it can double its population in a matter of days. And it changes colour. When the weather turns cold, when nutrients run low, or when the fern is stressed, it turns red. The leaves produce a pigment that protects them from harsh conditions. This turns the water surface from green to rusty red. It is the fern equivalent of a bad mood. Visible from across the pond.
It floats. The
water fern does not need soil. It does not need a trunk. It pulls its nutrients from the water and its energy from the sun. Its roots dangle in the water, absorbing dissolved minerals. Its leaves float on the surface, catching the light. It also has a superpower. The water fern hosts a symbiotic cyanobacterium, Anabaena azollae. This lives in cavities on its leaves. The bacterium fixes nitrogen from the air. It converts it into a form that the fern can use. In return, the fern gives the bacterium a home. This partnership allows the water fern to thrive in water that is poor in nitrogen. Which is most still water. The symbiosis is efficient.
Reproduction occurs rapidly. In summer, it spreads by fragmentation. Pieces break off and grow into new plants. It also reproduces by spores. These produce tiny structures that sink to the bottom. They overwinter there, waiting for spring. The cycle is resilient. It survives the cold. It returns with the warmth.
In a world of towering tree ferns and dramatic king ferns, the
water fern is the small one. It is the fern you step over without noticing. The green scum on the pond. The plant that turns red when life gets hard. But it is also a survivor. It has been floating on still water for millions of years. Through ice ages and droughts and floods. It does not need to be tall. It does not need to be famous. It just needs a bit of still water. A bit of sun. And the patience to turn red when things get tough. No one told it otherwise.