Normally Texas is hot and dry and not at all friendly towards mushrooms in the summertime.
However, the month of August was unusually wet this year and the mushrooms rejoiced. As I walked down the driveway I could literally smell them. Their earthly, moist, pungent scent filled my nostrils long before I spied the first one. If you’ve been following me for a while you know I have this ‘thing’ for mushrooms.
Not the smoking kind (although I’ve heard they’re great!). Nor the eating kind (I don’t trust my id skills just yet!). No, I just like to look at them. All their tiny, delicate, wonderful parts, colors and textures. A true gift from the forest. So, even though it’s almost November, thank you, August. Thank you for the rain.
I simply love how bits of earth cling to them. Like they shot up so quickly that the earth had no chance to settle itself. Even the leaves, needles and twigs are pushed skyward in the mushrooms massive growth effort.
The colors are amazing. Each one, a tiny work of art.
I like to think how God, who paints the canvas of sky twice each day with sunrise and sunset, to be seen by millions, takes as much or even more care in a tiny mushroom. No bigger than my pinkie and likely to never be seen by any human. Yet, there they are, by the thousands.
All along the driveway, which is surround by forest and a creek bed, they grew.
Cheerily popping out of the earth like a million tiny jack-in-the-boxes.
Large and small.
Colorful and plain.
Safe and poisonous.
But all beautiful.
Thanks for musing with me today!