Foraged

Autumn can be one of the most enjoyable seasons -- not too hot, not too cold, and sometimes not even too wet (an important consideration in this part of the world). 

We spent a day wandering through forests, mainly on the lookout for edible mushrooms. As always, most of the ones we spotted were either not safe to eat, 'pre-chewed' by slugs or other forest residents, or sometimes just gone at the stem to some other mushroom-seeker who beat us to a particular patch. 

Because luck was with us, we found enough for a big panful fried up (with butter, olive oil, garlic and chives) that made their way to the top of a pile of fresh linguini. 

Yum!

The rest have been drying and are almost ready to go into jars where
they'll wait for special occasions when I'll cook with them (and put them into our Christmas stuffing for sure). 

Yet, it isn't just mushrooms that get found in the forest. Walking almost silently (except of course for the intermittent tinkle of the bear bell I wear) over the deep carpet of moss makes me think I'm in the land of The Lord of the Rings or maybe on another planet, like in Avatar. 

One of the most important 'foraged' items I bring home with me is an awareness of that quiet place within, maybe the spirit, that takes such comfort and solace there.