A heavy rain falls. I worry about the roof leaking. I worry about the weight of the water in the trees near our home and limbs falling. I worry about the mud in our pastures and the moisture in our basement. It is fall in the Pacific Northwest. It is a time of the beginning of a long saturation.
But tonight I am happy. Our bellies are full of shaggy parasols that we harvested from the woods behind our house, and we are making plans for a long walk tomorrow in search of more fungus. The soil is wet again, and it is time for the fruits of the decaying ground to emerge.
So far we’ve had the good fortune of finding chanterelles, oysters, porcinis and shaggy parasols in the nearby woods, along with a multitude of other fascinating, though inedible, fungus.
Mushrooms are one of the reasons we made the move to Bellingham. Katie says it was for the ocean and the boats. I let her think that.
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