I have no idea how many hours I’ve spent hunting for morel mushrooms. But I do know I’ve risked my life at least once for the delicious morsels, and have scoured several square miles of Minnesota woods.
My friend and favorite morel hunter Pam, somewhere near [REDACTED] in [REDACTED].
Not this year, though. This year I was traveling during the height of the morel season and I missed the annual hunt.
Here’s Pam again, with our haul from one particularly good day in 2011.
I also missed three weeks of critical gardening time — so this weekend I spent six hours kneeling in the dirt, separating flower from weedy foe.
About two hours in, I saw something strange amid the mulch. It took my brain several seconds to process what my eyes had spotted immediately. Could it be? Was it really?!
Yes. A morel. A morel mushroom, right in my … well, never mind where.
Because everything in my life must be documented, I stood up to grab my camera. And that’s when I noticed that my new pet mushroom had friends. Lots and lots of succulent little friends.
They were well past their “best by” date, so I didn’t harvest them. But still … isn’t it unbelievable?
I guess it goes to show that we can travel the world in search of happiness and new adventures, but sometimes the treasures we seek are right in our own backyard.