Club moss with strobili in the Acidic Cove Exhibit on the South Carolina Botanical Garden’s Natural Heritage Garden Trail.
Sue Watts, ©2026, SC Botanical Gardens
On a bright but bitingly cold March day, I pause to admire this small evergreen plant tucked cozily into the leaf litter beneath trees stripped bare for winter.
At first glance, it’s easy to miss—modest, low-slung, quietly persistent. But look closer.
This is a clubmoss, and those pale, candle-like towers rising above its green runners hold millions of spores, each one a tiny insurance policy for survival.
How Clubmoss Changed My Life
Around twenty-five years ago, this unassuming plant detonated a change in my life. That may sound like hyperbole, but I promise it isn’t.
At the time, I was firmly rooted in classrooms, libraries and archives, deep
into the pursuit of a history doctorate.
Then came a period of personal upheaval, a move from Atlanta to Clemson and a dissertation that stubbornly refused to cooperate. I was untethered, searching for solid ground.
Just before Christmas, I spotted an advertisement for an office manager at the South Carolina Botanical Garden.
I applied on a whim, nudged, perhaps, by a family legacy of avid gardeners and my own childhood dabbling in dirt and seeds.
The idea of working in a garden felt magical.
I met the staff, interviewed, and was offered the job. Best Christmas present ever.
And now, back to the plant.
How Naturalists Tell the Story of Clubmoss
Once I settled in, I wanted to learn everything I could about the Garden, so I joined a First Friday Walk led by David Bradshaw, former Garden director and naturalist extraordinaire.
As we wandered, he introduced us not just to plants, but to lively and unforgettable stories.
Among them was this tiny evergreen with a treasure trove of names: turkey toes, running ground cedar, princess pine, wolf foot, and, for the botanically inclined, Lycopodium.
I was delighted by the litany of names, but what truly captivated me was David’s storytelling.
He didn’t just identify plants; he animated them.
Cultural History of Clubmoss: “Turkey Toes” in Appalachian Traditions
In the dark heart of winter, he told us, Appalachian families eagerly combed the woods for turkey toes.
The evergreen runners were gathered into boughs and wreaths, later studded with holly berries, bringing life and color into winter-dark homes.
His words made the scene glow with warmth and anticipation.
Why Clubmoss Spores Were Used for Fireworks and Flash Photography
Then came the surprise: turkey toes and fireworks.
Scientifically, it’s straightforward—the spores’ enormous surface area and fat content cause them to ignite in a quick flash when exposed to flame and oxygen.
But David invited us to imagine something more evocative: a firelit gathering, a Native American shaman casting spores into the flames to punctuate wisdom and ceremony with bursts of light.
The notion that such a tiny plant could command attention, authority, and awe lodged itself firmly in my imagination.
How Clubmoss Inspired a Career in Nature Interpretation
That walk lit a fire in me, too.
I was enthralled by these plant–people stories and knew, almost instantly, that I wanted to do what David did.
I soon learned the name for this calling: naturalist—more specifically, nature interpreter.
I enrolled in Clemson’s Master Naturalist course, and that was when my true learning journey began.
Surprising Uses of Clubmoss Spores (Lycopodium Powder)
Over the years, I’ve returned to Turkey Toes repeatedly, following its story wherever it led.
I learned that its explosive spores were used around the world in theatrical productions, fireworks displays and even early flash photography.
I discovered their hydrophobic magic as well.
The spores repel water so effectively that they were used to dust babies’ bottoms, keep pills from sticking together, dry skin and help latex gloves slide on easily.
Though concerns about allergies arose in the late 1980s, Lycopodium is still used today—and yes, you can still buy it.
Fascinating stuff.
Why Sharing Plant Stories Matters
For the past twenty years, my mission has been to gather and share stories about plants and people, learning all I can about the natural world and passing that wonder along.
I can hardly express how much joy this career has brought me.
From creating classes for learners of all ages, to writing for diverse audiences, to designing educational materials, the years have flown by.
My greatest joy is meeting people exactly where they are in their understanding of nature and helping them see a little more clearly, a little more deeply.
And it all began with a tiny evergreen plant—and one naturalist’s remarkable gift for making it come alive.
Protecting Clubmoss in the Wild
Do not gather this plant from the wild. Over-harvesting and habitat destruction means this plant is locally endangered in some places.
