On allowing for new possibilities
Hi friends, have I ever told you that I am in love with the land I live on? I don’t own land, but I am pretty sure rural New England owns me. And for us, foraging is what some people call ‘foreplay’.
If you are a forager, you know that as tasty as morels are, they are also notoriously difficult to find. So difficult that apparently people pass on secret morel spots before they shit the bed.
Now, I have never tasted a morel. Sure, I could go to my local health food store and get four dried morels for $14. But what fun is that when I could experience the joy and disappointment of not finding them myself.
So mustered up after watching Adam Haritan’s hilariously spicy videos on finding morels, I found a partner in crime. We put on our gay-est foraging outfits and hit the dirt roads.
An hour into the woods, I am in full hippie mode: chanting Om Chandraya Namaha, throwing myself from one tree to another yelling “Catch me Daddy!”, and lusting after moss. The moss, y’all.
Both me and the land knew I wasn’t gonna meet any morels that day. And as much as being stood up on a first date hurts, I had to be reminded, “he never expects results; thus he is never disappointed.” 1
The question shifted from “where is the morel?” to “who is the morel?”. The art of seduction dictated: spend time with the elm and the ash, caress the rich well-drained soil, smell the nasty trillium.
The love of the land had led me there and what is love if not curiosity. I needed to get to know the morel, even though they weren’t ready to meet me yet.
Another hour passed. The sun hid behind the clouds, the drizzles picked up, and the wind began dancing around. I headed down the edge of a hill, and just as I was about to hop over a small creek, a bright red wink grabbed my attention.
I pushed the leaves out of the way and voila! A family of scarlet elf cup mushrooms attached to a branch caught in the stream.
A surprise meet-cute, I knew that the scarlet elf cup is a spring mushroom associated with healing. I was given not what I wanted but which I needed. Healing my expectations and my presence to allow for new possibilities.
That night, I made us a delicious gluten-free goat cheese and honey pizza and sprinkled the scarlet cup on top. It was the sweet date I needed, as the land asserted once more who was in charge.