Just in Time for Morels

A bounty of morels from a previous season!

The weather – day after day of sparkling, blue skies and spring flowers – was undeniably spectacular. For a string of sun-soaked days, each evening found children splashing playfully in the river and brown trout rising explosively to flies. Everywhere I looked I saw people smiling, their relief palpable on the heels of another long and trying winter.

I was so distracted by the sheer beauty of it all that I almost neglected to notice we were entering mid-May, morel primetime, and the forest floor had become heat-baked and desiccated. As the balmy weather turned brutally hot, I started to wonder whether the 2022 morel season might be a total bust. 

If nature gives you a dry July, so be it – the chanterelles will just fruit with that much extra vigor when the rain inevitably arrives in August. Morels are different; as with ramps and fiddleheads, you only get one shot, one sweet window of spring opportunity per year. You might encounter bloated morel remains in June (make a mental note for next year!), but you won’t find fresh flushes.

Then, just before it was truly too late, thunder grumbled, lightning flashed, and the rain began to fall. And fall it did – a relentless soaking, accompanied by a profound cooling that brought the soil temperatures right back into perfect morel range.

Folks, now is the time. They’re back, and this will be the peak week for Green Mountain morels. Just how good it will be – whether merely good or truly epic – we shall soon find out.