This morning I couldn’t resist plucking the Shaggy Parasol from under a cedar in the woods.
It’s a treasure to have such a delicacy pop up on this property. Around it are a number of smaller ones, which should be ready in a few days.
Month: September 2019
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Still Alive
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One of the Best! Or Not
I’ve gone from cover to cover in my copy of David Arora’s “All That the Rain Promises and More – a hip pocket guide to western mushrooms” and this substantial mushroom I found in the woods is either a Parasol – one of the best tasting mushrooms, or it is a Green-Spored Parasol – poisonous to many people, causing severe gastrointestinal distress.
The guide says that in Western North America it is only known in southern Arizona, so it must be something else.
After more research I am leaning toward it being a Shaggy Parasol (Chlorophyllum olivieri), which is common in the conifer forests of the Pacific Northwest, and is good eating though some people are allergic to it
The anemones are nearing their end for this year. Their flower stems drag the ground, but they are still too beautiful to cut down.
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What You Don’t Know May Kill You
This may never happen again, an apple tree with red ripe apples and blossoms at the same time.
This will happen again and again, red maple leaves at the start of fall.
The fall rains have set off the mushrooms. The forest floor is covered with them. I bought an extensive guide book on mushrooms of the Pacific Northwest, but even with all the pictures and descriptions, I don’t have the nerve to pick one and take a nibble.
Back in my grade school days in Japan, I brought back an interesting plant from the forest. The stalk looked succulent and tasty, so my mother and I took a few bites. I don’t remember clearly what it tasted like. I do remember the fear I felt when our tongues and lips went numb. We didn’t die, but that was a good lesson not to eat plants you don’t know.
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Change Is Coming
There is just a hint of fall in the Japanese maple leaves along the bridge in the woods. The blue skies of summer are a fading memory. There are more rainy days than not. Today we slip into the dark half of the year with nights longer than days. And on the other half of the world, people are waking to the half of the year with days longer than nights. It’s all rather awesome and no matter how many times it happens, it’s worth celebrating.
Fall is the time to enjoy the cone spires left when the cones of the noble fir disintegrate and leave their center spires sticking up toward the sky. By next fall, I will have forgotten about them, only to smile when I see them again. That’s the good thing about forgetting. You can see the same thing over and over again, and each time it is as fresh as the first.
I like that dogs live their lives in another realm, a world so different from ours. They continually find things I miss in the woods. Takuma has found something in the soft earth under a decaying stump. Whatever it was, it escaped. A mouse, a mole, some creature with a labyrinth of tunnels in the ground. Try as he might, Takuma was unable to catch it this time.
When he shoves his snout into the earth and inhales, Takuma’s brain must light up with a million different scents, experiencing scents which trigger emotions I can’t begin to fathom.
My time in the woods is always enjoyable. There are always new things to see. There is sadness too. The western red cedars are dying, not just around our house, but all around Puget Sound. The number of Swainson and Veery Thrushes is noticeably less than fifteen years ago when their eery songs filled the evening air. Can we change fast enough to not let it all slip away? We keep tugging out the threads of life that hold everything together. How soon will it before we pull one too many threads and it all comes tumbling down? At times is feels like it is all crashing down already.
[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DYqtXR8iPlE&w=779&h=438] -
Learning to Share
I love the blue of the sky this time of year. The billowing clouds make you think you’re driving through a Dutch Masterpiece from the 17th century.
I went out to gather the last of the grapes only to discover that someone else had beaten me to them. Next year I’ll know to pick them when they are ready, though it wouldn’t be right not to leave a few for the other creatures, would it? You learn to share when you have a garden. What’s it like for a wasp to encounter a grape? Do they even entertain the idea of, “I can eat it all”? What would we do with grapes that are bigger than ourselves? Wouldn’t it be so much fun to peel such a monster of a grape?
One thing wasps don’t worry about is how to pay for a grape. They just eat it. It’s how most of creatures operate, in an economy where everything is free, everything is up for grabs, and they’ve managed to flourish for hundreds of millions of years without ever needing a dime. Amazing when you think about it.
This is probably my last brood of the season. Butter Ball is taking care of 14 chicks, a mix of Golden Wyandottes, Delawares, and Barred Rocks. She was broody for nearly three weeks, and on Friday I ordered the chicks. They were shipped on Monday. Wednesday morning I was at the Post Office before the mail truck arrived from Everett, and the chicks were under her by seven a.m.
Now you see it, now you don’t. Hens seem to have an infinite capacity to hide chicks in their feathers.
