In mid October porcini mushrooms
have been eaten by the slugs;
there are no yellow chanterelles;
it’s even late for hedgehog mushroom;
their pale faces would
shinel against the pockmarked soil.
In mid October we can no longer
casually browse the wood for mushrooms.
we have to search and bend our backs;
we have to pass our fingers over
sodden leaves to find the yellowfoot.
and if we find one, we look closer
and we will find the next
and then another, and another
and soon the paper-bags are full
and afterwards we know that there are
mushrooms for the winter soups.
Kim hosts Poetics at dVerse and wants us to write about an object or something that you connect to autumn. The mushroom I refer too is a relative to the chantarelle, and delicious.
—
October 17, 2017
Björn Rudbergs writings 
How fun to collect your own mushrooms! Love your poem!
Joy in the discovery moment of another and another. Well written!
These small mushrooms, you harvest more than pick…
I am a morel hunter – it is a wonderous thing!
But there are some very poisonous ones among morels I believe
Quite true – I leave the final identification to one who knows more than I.
I wish I had your knowledge of mushrooms. I’d love to be able to go out in the forest and forage but I’m not confident enough to do so, at least not for mushrooms. Berries and fruits, no problem. But not mushrooms.
There are a few rules to learn and when you have learned them it’s just to harvest.
I wish our community centre gave lessons. I suspect it’s liability issues.
These mushrooms sound delicious and it is great when you can pick them freely – we have a Scottish Wild Mushroom Code and restrictions which vary from forest to forest.
Mushrooms are free to pick here, except in gardens… 🙂
Great poem … and how apposite. Just spent two weeks in Czech visiting the son and his finance … and had several great days gathering mushrooms in the forest.
We found some field mushrooms on a walk the other Sunday and I took a couple of pictures. But I’ve not had the pleasure of finding anything more interesting or exotic. I love the way you describe mushroom picking in the lines:
‘In mid October we can no longer
casually browse the wood for mushrooms.
we have to search and bend our backs;
we have to pass our fingers over
sodden leaves to find the yellowfoot’.
I could hear faint echoes of Seamus Heaney’s ‘Blackberry Picking’.
What a wonderful comparison… actually it’s a very interesting process finding these small little delicacies
I wonder if there are porcini round these parts? Whatever—if you don’t know where to look, no one is going to tell you 🙂
Wonderful- I think I would probably pick the wrong ones and that wouldn’t be good…
That is some mushrooms for winter soups ~ Love the finding and searching for them Bjorn ~
I like your description of the search for the yellowfoot mushroom.
You know your mushrooms. It must be fun, hunting for them. I have only done it once.
So evocative. I was there with you. Now looking forward to the soup 🙂
You captured the scene so well with your words. Next should be a recipe of the winter soups!
how lovely to be able to pick your dinner! stir fry mushrooms sound delicious too. associating this delicacy and autumn is a wonderful memory.
Chantrelles are gone here and the last Amanita Muscara too ( not that I’d pick those…but they are beautiful to look at and photogrpah) Lovely poem and I’m sure the soup will taste good.
and afterwards we know that there are
mushrooms for the winter soups.
An enjoyable time gathering them and not a chore at all.
Hank
I love Mushrooms & Mushroom soup too:)
Enjoyed this little step-away from pre-packed modernity. A rambling search for Yellowfoot mushrooms, ending in homemade soups. Delightful!