Where summer nature walks are exercises in trying to sort through chaos, winter treks are the polar opposite. There's simply very little that's obviously alive, and so you have to learn to zero in on the most minute of promising details. So it is that I'm forever combing over a nearby rock outcrop that, in truth, I should write a book about: there's that much to bear witness to and try to learn to the species level. I've bemoaned my repeated failures to learn, really learn, the lichens, but there are a few I've come to know, and this is one. Actually, it could turn out to be many. This is a Cladonia, a.k.a., a Trumpet Lichen, and, by the mealy looking surface of the trumpet and stem, I suspect it's Cladonia chlorophaea, the Mealy Pixie Cup. But C. chlorophaea is actually a group of at least a dozen "chemotypes"—chemically distinct varieties that may be individual species—so the taxonomic plot could thicken. I just may have to add a sophisticated chemistry set to my list of future purchases.