My quads are burning, and my left knee is giving out from the climb. But with a season-defining harvest of Craterellus tubaeformis and Hydnum umbillicatum pressed close to my chest, I feel no pain. The yellow foot chanterelles and hedgehogs – freshly plucked in the alpine air and still cold to the touch – are pristine and unblemished, a gift from the well of autumn’s abundance.

Our family enters the forest to find a reinvigorated mycological landscape. Eight-year-old Eliana is mesmerized by a spiraling flush of dainty waxy caps, while three-year-old Noemi munches on trailside blackberries. Jenna is deep in focus photographing summer novelties like purple coral mushrooms and jelly babies, but I have only one thing on my mind: reaching my favorite local black trumpet spot, among the boulders and beech trees ahead.

As I travel a familiar trail, the frost-nipped forest offers new perspectives and mycological surprises. With six-year-old Eliana leading the family foray, Noemi descends from Mama’s baby carrier, eager to put her newfound walking ability to the test on some rugged Green Mountain terrain. Grandpa is here as well, joining us for a socially distanced outing.