Thoreau tells us, "Nature made a fern for pure leaves." Fern leaves are in
the highest order of cryptogams. Like those of flowering plants they are
reinforced by woody fibres running through their stems, keeping them erect
while permitting graceful curves. Their exquisite symmetry of form, their
frequent finely cut borders, and their rich shades of green combine to make
them objects of rare beauty; while their unique vernation and method of
fruiting along with their wonderful mystery of reproduction invest them
with marked scientific interest affording stimulus and culture to the
thoughtful mind. By peculiar enchantments these charming plants allure the
ardent Nature-lover to observe their haunts and habits.
"Oh, then most gracefully they wave
In the forest, like a sea,
And dear as they are beautiful
Are these fern leaves to me."
As a rule the larger and coarser ferns grow in moist, shady situations, as
swamps, ravines, and damp woods; while the smaller ones are more apt to be
found along mountain ranges in some dry and even exposed locality. A tiny
crevice in some high cliff is not infrequently chosen by these fascinating
little plants, which protect themselves from drought by assuming a mantle
of light wool, or of hair and chaff, with, perhaps, a covering of white
powder as in some cloak ferns--thus keeping a layer of moist air next to
the surface of the leaf, and checking transpiration.
Some of the rock-loving ferns in dry places are known as "resurrection"
ferns, reviving after their leaves have turned sere and brown. A touch of
rain, and lo! they are green and flourishing.
Ferns vary in height from the diminutive filmy fern of less than an inch
to the vast tree ferns of the tropics, reaching a height of sixty feet or
more.