Fear the Fungus?

Primordial shapes appear overnight.

Brought on by more than a bit of rain

They burst through the turf,

Thrusting leaf and twig aside -

Bullies of the forest floor

Arriving in the dark,

Clothed like alien visitors

Huddled together.

Clannish they stay together

seldom venturing out alone. 

Colors,

 Shapes,

Seen only in nature,

Science fiction -

or a child's

Thickly crayoned

Work of art.

Unexpected, 

They go where they please

Oblivious to our boundaries

Borders and walls

Look quickly if you want to see

Don't delay your view

For darkness comes soon

And when it fades

It carries them with it.

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Design

Isn't this just the greatest mushroom ever?  Milk chocolate, thick and solid as if carved from a walnut block by a gifted artist.

Be sure to notice the sturdy stout stem of this fungus.
The underside feels like the skin of a human's foot or the palm of my hand.

Only a few chips are missing from the top.  I believe these were made by falling bits of sycamore bark. such as the pieces lying to the left of the mushroom which strongly resemble the bark.  The creamy pink hue of the bark's interior is a perfect match for the surface of the nearby mushroom.

Even the curled edges mimic the curling bark. In the photo below you may see the two mushrooms hidden by surrounding sycamore bark curls. I can't help but believe that this is no coincidence.  Could it be that the fungi rely the sycamore roots and use it's bark as camouflage?

The surface of the mushroom makes a bowel that would hold much water were it not for a drain built into           its edge.

What great design. 

I walked further into the woods as light continued to fade. Along with me came my small Canon SX110 IS and a spotlight that would feel like a ton by the end of tonight's walk.  The spotlight had a quick-squeeze trigger I thought I could use to find some frogs. On this evening I heard barely a peeper, but there were plenty of other sights and sounds. 

Two summers ago, Jeff and I planted a strip of wild flowers along our then newly acquired bit of woods behind my flower garden. I think it is about fifteen feet long by three feet wide.  We picked a shady mix, cultivated the ground and sowed the seeds. Very few plants came up and none bloomed that year. Last summer we had two or three blooms and almost mowed over the patch but decided to see what would happen if we just let it grow. Well, this summer the strip is full of plants and we've already had some blooms. It is still few enough to count on one hand, but it looks like there will be plenty by July.  One lovely one is a large yellow columbine.

This columbine has a much larger blossom than the pink ones hopping around my garden, surprising me each spring with their chosen spot.  Maybe this yellow one, too will be a dancer, jumping over the stone wall into the garden where it will find good company.

Upon entering the woods I pass a stump of a tree that was cut for timber. Last fall I showed you a fungus growing on that stump and it continues to exude fungi. This golden specimen seems barely attached to its host stump as it juts out from the stump's side. It seems like a bit or two of its flesh has been eaten  but it I would never try it. I can think of a couple college friends that might test out the edibility of this mushroom, but there is a good chance they are no longer among the living, especially if they continued with their lack of discernment.

My attention was next drawn to this small white flower below. I'm not sure what it is yet since it isn't pictured in my "easy" books. I'll have to search harder in the books with less photos. I do love the Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Wildflowers for its lovely photographs, but so many plants are not pictured.

Do you see the tiny visitor? I didn't notice it until after I took the shot.

In my own garden I like to plant white.  Sometimes the night is the only time left to relax and enjoy my garden.  The daylight hours are spent weeding, planting, replanting and mulching.  As light fades, it becomes to dark to weed. That is when I am thankful for the white plants.  They reflect whatever light is left, almost glowing. And a white garden on a moonlit night . . . . I'll take you along ffor a walk one evening later this summer.

For now, the night path pulled me forward. What else will we find?

Night Sounds

Sounds drift across the breeze as I walk beside the darkening field.

The cool evening air touches my bare arms causing me to pause and consider returning to the cabin for a sweater. I decide there is not enough time, the show is about to start. The performers are moving into place while the audience settles in.  A mockingbird tries out a few new calls before settling down for the evening. Robins keep chirping to one another like friends having a quiet conversation as they squirm their bottoms into canvas lawn chairs and prepare for an evening concert.

A mosquito strums its wings against the breeze like a fine guitar - a droning "hu. . .m-m-m. . " I can almost make out a melody as the mosquito peers into the dark caves of the garden's daylilly leaves.

Testing . . .one-two. Check . . .check?

The audience sits at attention. Together, the guests lean forward waiting for voices each knows will soon be heard.

Friends that we seldom see have come out and sit, huddled close together, ready for the concert to begin

I notice feet scuffling against a rough, brown surface as seats are rearranged and a few guests return with snacks to enjoy once the music begins. 

There are  a few last announcements by bright red cardinals chasing each other through the trees in search of the perfect spot for the night. They finally decide to go inside, into the protective warmth of the spruce trees, away from the cool breeze. Shy, still doves calmly sit side-by-side in a row on a topmost branch.  They will have a good view of all that goes on below once the music starts.

For me, I pause, ignore what is going on around me, and gaze out at the darkening sky across the dark green field.

Each blade of grass seems to be in place swaying gently as the music begins.

Now listen . . . .hear it?

The fiddler begins as crickets take their place among the leaves. I am gradually surrounded by song as the concert draws me into the music. A night bird sings out with a song like a hymn offered to God and the world; a song that brings tears to my eye as my heart unexpectedly retrieves the memory of a recent loss.

In the distance a towhee dances, hopping backwards, raking its feet against the brown earth while nearby a grouse rests amid the brush enjoying the show.

The Blooms Keep on Coming

When beechen buds begin to swell,
and woods the blue-bird's warble know
the yellow violet's modest bell
Peeps from the last year's leaves below.

1st stanza of a poem

by William Cullen Bryant

Yesterday's trip into the woods found the downy yellow violets up.  They are just starting to bloom. the nearby white violets have not yet made an appearance but I will keep checking.

I know summer isn't far away when the redbuds blossom.  When I started out on this day's walk, I noticed none of the trees in bloom but when I returned, two hours later, there they were, pretty in pink, lining the gas line right-of-way.  I don't know if I had missed seeing both trees on my first pass or if they came out with the sun.

It could be that I was looking to intensely at the ground which has its own rewards.  That is how I found this brown beauty, nestled against a bunch of grass.  Mushrooms have found accommodating surroundings in the damp woods.

Spring beauties abound.  Those tiny bulbs Claytonia virginica are everywhere that the sun can reach.  The flowers I find in the woods have a hint of pink as does this one but in my yard, they are usually white, a result of our poor soil. Once, before I had children, I gathered up a small bowl of the tubers, cut them in two and sauteed them in butter. Not so great, but something I could eat if I needed to.  I could probably get used to them and might add onion if I ever cook Claytonia virginica again.

Backin my actual garden, Virginia bluebells, Mertensia virginica, are making a nice showing with their mixture of pink and blue blossoms nodding over the flagstone path which they have temporarily overtaken

Another good day has begun.  The sun is up with the power of summer, beaming down with a heat that will build to almost ninety degrees by this afternoon. The heat is speeding up some blooming cycles urging me to pay attention so that I don't miss a thing.