Friday, Aly called to tell us she’d landed a prime summer job. While we talked with her with one of our phones set on “speaker,” I sat at my usual place at the dining table, gazing out the window. As I lazily scanned the mounded earth that hosts our rhubarb patch, I spied a small object, which I fancied looked like a morel mushroom.
Since the hummingbirds and songbirds returned to our homestead (see For the Birds) I’ve kept a pair of lower power binoculars handy, to scrutinize the visitors at close range. I grabbed these and examined the thing in the garden, assuming I’d see the details of a newly-emerged rhubarb shoot.
But, no. I saw a morel. An honest-to-goodness morel, a few feet from the cabin door!
Our miracle morel (Photo: Mark Zeiger).