IMG_2112With crispy autumn leaves underfoot and newly naked branches overhead, we took the little one to climb her first mountain. Winter is the longest season in Vermont, a sprawling and frigid affair, and autumn the most ephemeral. But when the leaves are peaking, and the harvest heavy, we are overwhelmed by abundance and undaunted by the coming cold.

After a prolonged dry spell, the recent rain will give foragers one last chance to find fall favorites like hedgehogs, yellowfoot chanterelles, matsutake, maitake, and lion’s mane. Even the most conspicuous fungi are hard to spot beneath the freshly fallen leaves, so the fall forager must rely on an intuitive knowledge of the landscape to guide her gaze. Subtle cues, from the age of the forest to the structure of the soil, can make the difference between an empty basket and a full frying pan.

I look at baby Eliana, riding in the snuggly with Mama, her wide eyes fixed on the canopy of beech. Those eyes seem to be absorbing everything, missing nothing. It occurs to me that a forager’s eyes are not unlike a child’s eyes, forever open and awaiting the next surprise. Foraging is, fundamentally, the art of seeing.

And even on this dry October afternoon, I see a cluster of lion’s mane on a downed beech right along the path. Just a little lion, but pristine and fresh, and accompanied by several others flashing their pearly white teeth. I leave the emergent pink fungi to ripen in the log’s cavities, and pick just enough for Jenna to make an all-local fall feast – pan seared chicken breast topped with poblano peppers and caramelized  shallots, served with a winter squash stuffed with lion’s mane and a side of roasted Brussels sprout tops. Behold the harvest!

ForageCast - 10-12-11

Northeastern ForageCast for the next two weeks!