The mushroom gods don't always reward us with the fruits of the forest floor; sometimes their gifts are just as beautiful, but of a different kind.
Take last Wednesday, for example. We were on Mt. Hood, scouting in our favorite puffball spot around the 3,000 foot elevation. The afternoon was warm, and the earth was pretty much devoid of snow. Perfect, we thought, for gathering the first puffballs of the year.
In previous years, we'd found Giant Puffballs
surrounded by clusters of lovely blue flowers.
Yet, as we walked around, we noticed how different the landscape was this year. The usually dry stream bed had 3-4" of water running through its narrow, lower end. Higher up along the stream bed there was a swampy feel to the ground. A lush growth of newly sprouted grass lined both sides of the stream and extended up the hillside. Frustratingly, there wasn't a fungus to be found anywhere in this idyllic scene.
Disappointed? Only a little. A swarm of what appeared to be Mourning Cloak butterflies had taken possession of our favorite spot. These powerful fliers were everywhere, dancing as if in some aerial ballet in the luminous glade. They were a striking addition to the sun-drenched landscape with their maroon/purple-black wings marked with creamy yellow margins. When they landed, they seemed to disappear, their folded wings forming a perfect camouflage against the dark backdrop of the nearby trees.
Mesmerized by this inspiring site, we stood motionless, recalling the Rolling Stones lyrics:
You can't always get what you want
But if you try sometimes you just might find
You get what you need.
It's true. We didn't need puffballs. Our pantry shelves are well-stocked with jars of dehydrated mushrooms. What we really needed was a magical moment, and the mushroom gods gave us one: the gift of a lovely swarm of early spring butterflies.
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Postscript: We returned to this lovely spot one week later, curious to discover what had happened in the last 7 days. Sadly, the butterflies were gone, after all if your life span is only one year, you can't lollygag even in this most tranquil of landscapes.
Nonetheless we weren't disappointed with our visit. Colorful, cheerful Yellow Glacier Lilies were bursting forth everywhere. And, Giant Puffballs had arrived with great enthusiasm and were neatly nestled among the grasses. Pleased with our good fortune, we drove back to our little cabin on the mountain and feasted on the treasured, first fresh wild mushrooms of 2016.