A Quiet Revolution

As Northeasterners grapple with yet another week of dreary days and squishy socks, a quiet revolution is afoot in the forest. Seemingly in unison, a staggering variety of whimsical woodland denizens are erupting from the warm, wet forest floor. Bearing witness to this grand rite of summer is like being reintroduced to a legion of old friends, popping back up out of the woodwork just as suddenly as they disappeared into the cold grip of winter. I can almost hear myself mumbling to the mushrooms: “Good to have you back, slippery Jack…Chanterelle, ma belle!”

Many of these friends have been virtually absent for a full two years, uninspired by last summer’s drought and holding out for more favorable conditions. I have seen more chanterelles the last few days than I saw throughout the entirety of last summer. They are still small and dainty, but their ethereal apricot fragrance summons memories of the glory of 2011’s bumper crop. After a prolonged rest, the chanterelles have returned to celebrate the splendor of summer.

The slugs are close behind, slowly sliding through the mud and closing in on the incipient bumper crop. They don’t discriminate, equally happy sucking the skin off a violently poisonous Amanita or sliming up a pristine chanterelle. Yet how competitive can I feel with a shell-less snail, struggling to grease its way through the woods? Besides, soon there will be more mushrooms in the forest than even the fattest slugs can handle.

As I waltzed through the woods today nibbling on a young plume of turkey tail and bending down to devour the occasional wild strawberry, I couldn’t help but delight in the new life bursting from the dead wood and duff. Here’s to an abundant summer!