Eye to the Ground

Not too long ago, a friend came to visit. On her short list of requests of things to do once here was to go on a “hike.” Her quotes, not mine. What she really wanted was a walk in the woods, not an honest to goodness hike up the side of a mountain that requires hiking shoes and walking poles and a bladder full of water on your back. I knew the perfect place. There is a lake not too far from where I live that has terrific walking paths through the woods. One path in particular is a four mile loop, mostly flat, winding through the woods, with a terrific view of the water at the halfway point. We put on our hats and our bug spray, grabbed some water and snacks, and off we went.

It was a cheerful, uneventful hike. I say uneventful meaning simply that we enjoyed our walk and the weather and each other’s company and nothing untoward happened. No one fell in the lake. No one sprained an ankle. No one got sprayed by a skunk. It was a lovely afternoon in the woods.

When we were about a half mile from the car, we noticed a small group of people huddling over something along the side of the trail. It was a woman and two girls who, judging by their resemblance to the woman, their ages, and how they interacted with one another, I am guessing were her daughters. They were with a young man who we guess may have been the woman’s stepson or perhaps a family friend. He was too old to be her son and too young to be a significant other. But, whatever, the dynamic there is not what is important. What matters is that they were a friendly group who were more than happy to share the purpose of their outing: they were hunting mushrooms.

It turns out that the young man hunts for and collects mushrooms to use as art projects. He will split them in half, dry them on paper, and create art images with them. He also enjoys studying them and was a walking encyclopedia of all things mycology (that’s the study of mushrooms). 

He cheerfully showed us which one will make you vomit for days while you hallucinate at the same time. He showed us the one that smells like butter. He showed us purple mushrooms, red mushrooms, all sorts of funny shaped mushrooms. He suggested which ones you could eat in a pinch, and which ones you really should just leave alone.

After we parted ways, I kept an eye on the ground, a bit more attuned to what might be growing there than I have noticed in the past. Sure enough, little spots of bright purple, red, yellow were more common than I had noticed before. 

What a lovely afternoon to meet some kind strangers who have helped me to look at the woods with new eyes. Do I remember the names of the mushrooms and which one is which? I do not. But I have a general rule of not touching mushrooms when out and about, so I’ll be okay. The important thing is learning to look with new eyes for what has been there all along.