There I said it. I am not interested in overcoming it either. Like all addicts, I don’t see a problem with it. Not really. Sure, we get up earlier on the weekends to go foraging than we do during the week. And maybe I used the restroom outside more times yesterday than inside (TMI?), but the squirrels and wolverines do the same thing. So what if all I see when I close my eyes are mushrooms? The way I see it, there’s no better place to spend a day than in the woods looking for bits of a future meal. Or simply looking.
JC3 (for any newcomers, that’s the self-chosen acronym of our friends Jim, Jess and Jackson Clifton) met us at our place yesterday morning – where they were greeted with cookies – and we headed north to Chandler Hills for a morel foray. Thankfully we were prepared with layers, because the morning breezes brought more chill than promised. Rain threatened on our drive, but the front pushed south of us, eventually taking the clouds and briskness.
As is always the case morel-hunting, some areas of the woods produced heavily, and other areas were barren. No bother. When one isn’t finding morels (or as Jackson says: ‘Nother mush’?), one can always soak up the scenery. Trillium and leeks abound, accented by the rolling terrain. Fallen trees beg to be walked across, balance-beam style. And of course, trees that are not yet fallen beseech you to push them over into crunching, crumbling heaps.
The Cliftons hunted with us until about 3pm, and Tony and I finally conceded the day a bit after 7pm. We didn’t count or weigh our take, but we did find 52 beautiful yellows in a patch the last place we stopped, and we had already bagged about twice the weight of those. What with the crazy weather this year and all, I don’t think we’re doing too badly. I’ll let you know after we come home from more shroomin’ in a bit. I can stop any time I want 😉
Because of my woodland addiction, I have lots of pictures to share. Forgive me if you do not share my obsession. I included some non-morels so you can see what I mean about the forest being a great place to play. Click any image for a larger version in an easy-exit slideshow
Adventures in Michigan's Up North 
Any addiction that carries you out into the fresh air, admiring the works of art that nature provides, collecting sustenance for your tummies and your souls, cannot be bad. When you find yourself ditching work or having to dig your way through dirty laundry to find the door, then you might need to have an intervention staged.Until that time, enjoy and we shall share your addiction vicariously.
Uh oh. The floor-sweeping is kind of piling up 😉 (But it IS spring, and the kitties are shedding pillow-fodder!) Thanks for the kind words – I think you said it better than I did!
Who knew mushrooms could be so beautiful?!
Are they still beautiful to people who don’t hunt them? We think they are, but they kinda remind me of little brains, too.
Oh…and they also smell wonderful. Rich and earthy 🙂
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If there were any more morel hunting grounds around here, I would surely share your addiction, too. Isn’t it so exciting to find the beauties hidden between dead leaves and rising grasses and weeds? Does your neck hurt after hours of hunting? Do you have to remind yourself to keep looking up and breathing in the beauty? No, it doesn’t sound like you do. It sounds like you relax into the beauties both above and below. Are the morels gone now or are they still coming on?
P.S. My heart smiled at the photo of Jackson.
I’m hoping there are still some out lurking. We spent the weekend on Mackinac Island, and though we spent hours walking, few were in the woods, and none were hunting.
As far as my neck goes, I find that my attention to the woodland floor waxes and wanes. I get distracted by any number of things, and then realize that I haven’t been hunting at all…which I don’t really think is too bad all things considered. And my heart smiles at that little boy very frequently – he’s a sweetie and we’re all having a great time watching him discover the world.
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