Showing posts with label mushroom hunting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mushroom hunting. Show all posts

Monday, November 25, 2013

Find and Seek



by Greg

Late late late summer. Slipping into autumn. Or slipped. Up the mountain. Into the grey. Into the rain. Muddy truck track. Soggy foot trail. Then no trail at all. The rain falls cold. The rain falls hard. Cold. Hard. Not rain at all. But the frozen white bite of hail that hits and bounces and gathers. Dogs run faster to dodge the cold.

We slog and clamber. Scuff and bend. Scanning. Looking. Find fall colors. Find fallen leaves. Find secret views between the trees. But also we find. Nothing.

Then we do. Tucked into the forest. Between lichen and ice. The rumpled head. The fluted stalk. The peachy glow. With cold wet fingers. With bright-edged knife. We pull it free. Then seek others. Then find others. Nearly hidden. Their glow gathered.

We have come to the mountain seeking. We have come to the mountain to find. Not only the means to a dinner. But more. To find fall colors. Find fallen leaves. Find secret views between the trees.























Monday, October 1, 2012

Not Long Before the Fall

Photos by Greg

Summer has slipped away into cool mornings and crisp days. Colorful leaves are blowing through the gutters of town and the mountains glow with yellow. These photos, however, glance backward to late summer in a vain attempt to catch up.





















Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Monday, September 10, 2012

High Summer Scamper: Out There Somewhere



Words by Greg
Photos by Greg and Trina


We'll have to admit that one of the most important places we go on nearly every trip is somewhere we can pretend to have the world to ourselves. Such places might be more easily reached by leaving the truck behind. But on this trip we managed to find a few spots where, for days, we saw either next-to-no-one, or no one at all. The truck could stay parked while we wandered rainy canyons, scrambled along cliffs, communed with small flowers, waded creeks, gathered wild food, or sat watching the planet slowly revolve.

There seems to be a restorative effect to living -- temporarily, at least -- with only our small pack of two, plus two dogs, in an expanse of wild land.