Mad about Mushrooms . . .

Welcome, 2022!

I have been thinking back over 2021, trying to make sense of the challenges that we have undergone and overcome, trying to make sense of it all.  Time after time my thoughts return to the sixth century B.C. venerated philosopher, Lao Tzu, and I hear him whispering in my ear:  When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be.

This may be the greatest gift that 2021 has so generously bestowed upon me.  It has offered me the opportunity to rethink, to re-imagine my life and my world, and to rejoice in gratitude for this emerging awareness.  I am feeling appropriately small in the midst of my magnificent surroundings.

2021 has refreshed the window through which I view the world, including my fungal world.  Yes, I now find enhanced fulfillment and deeper meaning and more sustained pleasure by having set aside long-held beliefs and desires and, instead, discovering joy in the simplicity and subtlety of the treasures that are offered:  a solitary mushroom standing defiantly in the sun-drenched landscape, the pattern of raindrops on leaves of a native rhododendron triumphing under a dense tree canopy, the early morning sun's rays dancing amongst the evergreens and reflecting on the Sandy River, December's powdery snowflakes clinging to drooping vine maple branches …

Welcome, 2022, and may you bring lessons and inspiration into all facets of our lives, enhancing the gifts of your beloved older sister, the year that has just passed, 2021.

Silently soaring above the silty Sandy River, our resident bald
eagle welcomes the new year with grace and
determination, filling the sky with his majesty and filling me
with awe!  Mural by Becky Hawley.

 

Welcome 2021!

As 2019 was ending, I gave thanks  ...  “for what lies ahead is more challenging and exciting and engaging than I can ever image.”

Little did I know what I was prophesying!  Then, on January 1 of last year, we were joyful and excited about the New Year. Now, twelve months later, we are daring to be optimistic, cautiously optimistic about the coming year.

From time to time my mind drifts to the splendid Japanese garden where I am a volunteer gardener. Here there is a source of perseverance and of courage as we notice how winter has painted this beguiling landscape, brushing it into a symphony of colors and textures, with the realization that each season, each event is a cause for celebration. There is solace in its simplicity.

Photographer Bill Peterson beautifully captured
raindrops glistening on holly,
a promise of the wonder now and to come.

We observe how the evergreen holly leaves glisten with raindrops while holly branches are alive with bright red berries, soon to be devoured by squirrels and birds. Here and there fungi are breaking ground, seeming to traverse the pathways and tucking themselves protectively under the foliage of the holly and other plantings.

In the background a solitary stone lantern maintains its reticent vigil, beckoning and lighting the way. Nearby, but unseen, a moss-draped rock turtle, a symbol of wisdom and peace, patiently awaits the arrival of the New Year.

Thus it is that we end 2020 and greet 2021 in the stillness of this Japanese garden as well as in the surrounding woodlands where their pristine beauty rejuvenates and offers hope for an abundance of healing and a resurgence of kindness. All is at rest and awaiting the arrival of a new spring to stimulate the bounty and beauty of the garden and forest floors.

Yes, welcome 2021.  We await you with great enthusiasm!

 

Welcome 2020!

Welcome 2020 and many thanks ...

• For a wonderful mushrooming year in 2019, made memorable by anticipation and fulfillment.

    

• For the joys of sharing last mushrooming trips with my beloved husband, Steven. Even though he was no longer able to traverse the wooded areas of the coast and mountains, he took pleasure in the photographs of what I found on the forest floor and encouraged me with his wisdom and kindness.
• For the opportunity to forage with long time friend, Terry, a retired Forest Service employee who many years ago had fostered a love in me of all things fungal.
• For the sheer pleasure of sharing my fungal knowledge with others, teaching them a rational and safe approach to collecting with an emphasis on conservation and preservation of the landscape.
• For investigating and developing skills in mushroom related activities such as dyeing and cultivation.
• For the gift of living in a fungal world made remarkable by its mystery and melange.
• For the knowledge that what lies ahead is more challenging and exciting and engaging than I can ever image.

 

Woodlovers stole the show on this
stump intended to highlight the hosta.

 

 

 

 

Welcome, 2019!

     Slugs always seem to find their
                    mushrooms.

And there are two reasons to welcome it. First is the usual hope for a good year ahead, both fungal and otherwise, Second, this year, is the profound hope that 2019 will be a vast improvement in mushrooming for us over 2018, which was surely the most dismal in our experience.

That old bugaboo, lack of timely rains in the summer, was no doubt the problem. Without that fresh rainfall in early August or so, our beloved mushrooms have no impetus to fruit. It’s just that simple.

We found few Chanterelles, and a handful of Matsutakes on one delightful day, but we never found any of our absolute favorite, the Cauliflower (Sparassis crispa), despite many fruitless trips to our perennial no-fail spot on Mt. Hood. Well, no-fail until this year, the worst in our history. It bordered on being embarrassing, and had we heard of others doing a lot better, we would have been embarrassed ourselves.

There were occasional - very occasional - high points.  The best of these was our attendance at the NAMA Annual Meeting and Foray, held near Salem, Oregon this past September.  There weren’t many mushrooms (like everywhere else!), but meeting up with dear old friends Dick and Agnes Sieger was, for us, truly the highlight of the whole affair.  Dick was the long-time and very capable President of the Puget Sound Mycological Society when we first joined it way back in the late ‘70’s, and Agnes virtually single-handedly produced the PSMS newsletter Spore Prints (the best we’ve ever encountered in the field) from then until now.  They’re truly delightful people, and we are committed to NEVER allowing that kind of time elapse again without contact with them.

              Urban mushrooms were
                   a bit more plentiful.

The lack of mushrooming (and the rains that cause them!) DID have a benefit for us, personally. As most of you know, we moved last summer to the Brightwood area on the western slope of Oregon’s Mt. Hood, and although the home we bought and moved into was wonderful in almost every way, it desperately needed for the huge deck to be sanded and a heavy coat of stain applied. While we were at it, we re-stained the house as well, along with new gutter screens and a few other outdoor odds and ends, including Mary’s renewal of the once-proud landscaping, which had fallen into neglect. So, every cloud has a silver lining. At least, we guess so.

But those things are behind us, and as we look forward to 2019, there’s no need for the rains to hold back. Indeed, they certainly don’t seem to be doing so thus far this winter! Keep it up, Oregon! Let’s have a good spring, abundant Morels and Boletes, and keep it going in the fall.

That doesn’t seem to be too much to ask of the Mushroom Gods, does it?

As always, in 2018 mushrooms delighted us
with their rainbow of colors.
 

Welcome, 2018!

It's that time of year when I sit at my computer to compose a message to our dear and loyal readers and fellow mushroomers.   Hopefully, they'll find something in it that inspires them, because it is always my purpose to do so in these pieces.  The pursuit of wild mushrooming is, in itself, inspiring; the forests in which we seek them, the beauty in those forests, the things we learn about them by researching what we've found and by what we learn all on our own, all of these are inspiring and are good reasons to get out there and look for these jewels of the forest floor. 

Setting goals, like mushrooming on Wind Mountain,
keeps our hobby fresh and invigorates us year after year!

We're getting older.  Both of us are now in our 70's, and we don't get around as well as we used to - particularly yours truly.  Yet, throwing in the towel in an activity we've loved and been fascinated by for so many years is simply not an option.  We won't explore and search for new spots as aggressively as we once did, perhaps, but we'll still do it, and will be especially thrilled when our explorations - guided by what we've learned over the years - meet with some notable amount of success.

The forest floor always delights - imagine mushrooming in
a land where wild cranberries form a carpet beneath our feet!

So, to those of you who are still in your primes, we tip our hats and offer congratulations.  Enjoy it and milk it for all you can.  Take care of yourselves and preserve your physical health for as long as possible; it's not a given, and can change at any time.  Know that eventually, it will change and when it does, try to make the best of it. 

Even when there are no edible mushrooms in the refuge,
Douglas iris beckon us into the woods to share in its beauty!

And for those of you who are more like us, don't give up.  The more sedentary you are, the more sedentary you will be.  Keep at it to whatever degree you can; persevere against the aging process and continue as long as you possibly can.  It may be difficult, but the alternative is worse.  Look back on the wonderful memories you've created, but make some new ones, too!

Thanks for the memories, dear readers, and here's to the multitude of memories we'll all collect in the years to come!

Foraging draws us into the landscape
where we become lost in the magic of the moment!

 If you'd like to keep up with what's happening in our fungal world, please visit the category ALL THE LATEST MUSHROOM NEWS from time to time.  Look forward to meeting you there!