For the second day in a row, I found myself living off the grid. Actually, not so much off the grid as that the grid was off. Two days of wind, rain, and then last night's hail and I could see clearly that Nature was making a game of the grid. Forget firing up the fossil fuel generator. This was a gift! Forget chores. It meant mushroom hunting time had come and I had the additional gift of a few hours before I had to get to work!
I gathered up Mini, my calico mushroom cat, and we went to my favorite mushroom-finding place. It's not so much that she finds mushrooms as that she just loves being out stalking with me. Today, I could actually smell the mushrooms. Maybe Mini can too. I haven't asked.
After a few minutes I was dismayed that my early training in tree identification was failing me. I would head out to a tall elm tree only to find a profusion of robbed acorn shells and a scattering of oak leaves. That would be heartbreaking to my dad who was a timber buyer, purveyor of the finest in veneers. The only thing that consoled me was remembering the names of the many wildflowers I found, the wild phlox, spring beauties, yellow violets, may apples and many more. The vegetation looked like mushroom country.
Sure enough, Mini and I found some mushrooms, just nineteen, but each one excited me every bit as much as the first one. I cut the morels neatly at the ground's edge, dropped them carefully into a bread bag and felt thankful for each gift.
Throughout this hunt, my hoodie had protected me from the fine mist in the air as I kept my eyes on the ground. Mini didn't seem to mind the cool mist but, before long, she meowed loudly, that urgent sound cats make and you know that, to them at least, it's important. Not wanting the claws to come out, I pulled myself up out of my mushroom stupor, pulled my eyes up off the ground, and saw the tree tops being whipped all around by the wind. I thanked Mini and we headed back to the house, mushrooms in tow, and our time together well spent.
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