I came home from yesterday’s COMA walk loaded down with new mushrooms to sample.
I actually learned about milky cap (lactarius) mushrooms. I spent the rest of the day photographing them, looking them up in my reference sources and doing what I could to imprint this new knowledge.
I just sautéed the lactarius (hygrophoroides, I think) and it is delicious.
So are some of boletes we collected. I find it hard to write and keep up with a group, so on the walk I focused my “mushroom eyes,” observed, and asked questions. Now I have to sort out the identification of each of the two lactarius and three bolete species I know I can eat.
I have a decent ear for foreign languages, but I am struggling with remembering which Latin names I was told yesterday. Since mushroom season is in full swing, I think I’m going to get name tags and write down what the mushroom people say and tag my mushrooms from now on.
I am profoundly grateful for my mushroom mentors, who are helping me learn more quickly. I was the only newbie on this walk. I’m excited and overwhelmed with the new knowledge and the apparent abundance.
I listened to the comments of these mycologists noting what was missing, as well as what we were finding. The chanterelles are tiny and not as dense as in past years. If it doesn’t rain enough this summer, there may be no chanterelles.
There are entire species of plants and fungi they used to see, but no longer find. That hurts. That’s why I spend increasing amounts of time in the wild places. It’s the only reality. I find the rest of what preoccupies my fellow humans increasingly distasteful.
We have the technology and the resources to maintain our infrastructure, but instead we squander them on destroying another country’s infrastructure. It’s daunting. The latest disaster, the I35 Bridge collapse, reminds me of a 1994 trip I took over the Tappan Zee Bridge in New York State. I was terrified, praying out loud, eager - no desperate - to get off that bridge. My husband, who was driving, kept asking me why I was acting crazy. I have never gone on that bridge again.
My strong intuitive sense has kept me alive and out of trouble. It makes socializing difficult, because I sense things that most of the people in my life do not. It’s hard not to seem crazy when sitting in a car screaming while everyone else sees no problem. True, the Tappan Zee did not collapse that day, but I knew I was in a dangerous situation. That bridge is the same type of construction as the I35 Bridge. I don’t need to be an engineer to know that type of bridge is dangerous. Now, the rust on the Tappan Zee is a major local news story.
Our country has a collapsing infrastructure, a self-absorbed leadership and a powerless population. I wouldn’t argue if someone told me George W. Bush is a death eater and Dick Cheney is a dementor.
As for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - it’s a great read. But, I think I’ve found an inconsistency.
My impression of the characters is that Harry has never feared saying Voldemort’s name, but Ron has always avoided doing so. That’s why I was surprised to hear Ron say Voldemort’s name in Chapter 12 (page 234). I was even more surprised when Ron gets agitated after Hermione says it in Chapter 14 (page 273).
It seems a tiny point, but then in Chapter 20 (page 389), there is a whole discussion about the curse placed on Voldemort’s name.
I think about how any writer needs to write, rewrite, reorganize and revise from the first draft to the final written piece. I imagine J.K. Rowling with a huge map. How else could she keep track of all the characters, plot lines, and settings?
My definition of a good book is one that when I get to the end, I go back to page one and start reading it again. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows is 739 pages long. I will listen to it when it is available as an audiobook. Anyone who can keep my attention for an epic saga has mastered the craft of writing.
There’s lots of excellent written work available. But getting it all together and changing not only our language, but how we spend our time - that’s, well - MAGIC!
I have little time to make a dent in my booklist. That’s a winter activity. I’ve already spent most of the morning making mushrooms, mushroom soup and milkweed whites. I hate to waste a good outdoors day, but I’ve got to do something with all my new discoveries.
I am grateful for the time and the opportunity to enjoy and bond with what remains of the wild places. Finding people who care is a blessing. I hang on to that for my sanity.