I was on a hike recently with my niece, Jessica, a park ranger, when she asked me, “What are you most excited to discover on your hikes?” I considered.
I love spotting wildflowers in early spring, but they are so abundant that that couldn’t be my answer. Catching a glimpse of a summer tanager or an indigo bunting is always a thrill, so maybe that could be my answer. Then I remembered, mushrooms,
These unexpected gems sprouting from the forest floor are just magical.
And that’s what I told my niece. She said that mushrooms were her favorite finds, too, so of course we stopped on the trail and shared photos of our discoveries. Jessica showed me a photo she took of a large fleshy flat-topped mushroom with a slug resting on top. It conjured images of Alice’s opium-smoking caterpillar. Her photo was captivating and quaint, making me think a fairy might appear from behind the mushroom’s stalk.
It was hard to single out just one of my photos, so I showed her a red mushroom button just emerging from the ground and a stunning large blue one.
I told Jessica about an Instagram account I follow that posts photos of minute mushrooms. If you are a fan of mushrooms, tiny things, or photography, see here.
So why mushrooms? I’m not quite sure why they are so compelling to me. Neither plant nor animal, I think it’s their other-worldliness—their odd shapes and colors, the fact that some are edible and some are poisonous, the psychedelic properties of some varieties. Humanity has been fascinated by mushrooms for centuries, creating stories and myths about them. Just think of the word toadstool, and images of gnomes and tiny woodland creatures spring forth.
So on a surface level, mushrooms do captivate me, but by looking deeper, I can find at least three lessons from mushrooms and fungi:
1. What we choose to show the world, how we present ourselves, may hide what is below the surface.
Mushrooms are the outward and visible signs of the unseen subterranean world of fungi. They are the fruiting bodies of fine filamentous fungi that live underground, spreading sometime miles wide in the earth, forming a vast interlaced network.
2. We are each unique beings with special talents and gifts. Using them in community is mutually beneficial.
Science is just beginning to understand the highly specialized ways of the fungal kingdom. For example, leaf cutter ants cultivate a fungus inside their mounds by feeding it fresh leaf bits. In turn, ant larvae feast on the nutrient rich fungus. I’ve already written a bit about the way fungi and trees interact to the benefit of one another “here.” https://www.reneeharmon.com/2021/04/28/listening-to-trees/
3. By ridding ourselves of the things that no longer serve us and absorbing all of the life-giving love, joy, and peace that we can, we can grow.
The massive subterranean fungal filaments derive their nutrition by decomposing and then absorbing decaying organic matter. To reproduce, the underground fungi creates a mushroom. Starting as a minute “pin,” it then absorbs water into its cells and swells into an egg-shaped “button” as it breaks the surface of the earth. It continues to swell until it reaches its full size. Spores are then released from the mushroom’s gills and are spread by the wind.
So, go be a mushroom! But not a poisonous one.