About this time last year, our friend and neighbor introduced us to the
native edible fungi of our very own Southern California mountains. He is an expert, and he foraged
prized chanterelle mushrooms from the damp winter woodland - even from the oak-leaf and pine-needle soil of the narrow strip beside our shared driveway.
When I learned that such wonders were right here in my neighborhood, suddenly I began to seek out mushrooms in the woods while taking my daily walk with Jack. It was amazing how - when you start to look for something - you suddenly see it where previously you couldn't detect it at all. When I talked with our neighbor, we laughed and called it "mushroom goggles."
This has happened to me before with an assortment of arcane details. I remember one summer in college when I couldn't help but see the types of hub-caps all the cars had. Or the year my company installed new computerized parking equipment - suddenly I became aware of what system that was employed in each parking lot I used.
So on yesterday's wintery walk in Red Rock Canyon, after the rains of December, I was mindful of the season. I put on my "mushroom goggles." Here's what I found.
These red-capped mushrooms grew amid pine needles and oak leaves. They are a surprisingly attractive red color - specimens in fine shape appear to be rounded red granite stones at first sight. Older ones deepen in color as they rot.
Here's another photo of the same cluster.
The underside of the caps don't have gills, they are sort of spongy looking. They may be
Boletus dryophilus - considered edible but not particularly choice.
This one may be the "False Chanterelle" -
Hygrophorpsis aurantiaca, or even worse,
Omphalotus olivascens, the "Jack o'lantern mushroom." As my neighbor said when I sent him the picture - "Eat and get VERY sick (but not die)" Hmm....
What of these graceful little lampshades, growing on a rotting fallen oak tree?
Or these, another pretty
gilled 'shroom with a red velvet lampshade?
You never know.
Along the trail, a fallen oak tree hosted multiple species of fungi. These pretty little coral-pink bubbles are the size of pearls.
On the same tree, these fungi grew. They may be
Trametes versicolor, which has the delightful common name of "Turkey Tail."
One oak stump grew lots of fungi, including these bright orange mushrooms that were starting to liquify as they rotted. They stained my fingers bright orange where I touched them. Yuk!
Here are some small puffed mushrooms with textured caps. I'm not sure what they are.
I'm a person who likes to identify and classify plants, so I searched through field guides to figure out what these fungi are called. But, unlike with plants, I don't fully understand the physical structures and details of fungi. The one thing that was very clear to me as I checked through field guides, though, is that many mushrooms resemble one another - and some very very deadly poison mushrooms look a lot like delicious edible ones.
Mushrooms don't leave much room for error. So - even though these are beautiful, intriguing, fascinating - I'm not going to harvest them without some expert advice.
But it's interesting to walk through the woods with your "mushroom goggles" on. Or your "bird goggles," or "flower goggles," or goggles that help you see fish in a pond, or crystals of quartz in a stone.
Take some time to focus on a small detail in the world you live in. Tell me what you're seeing.
Click to "embiggen"
We were walking on Sunset Boulevard in the heart of Hollywood as the evening sun was getting low in the western sky, shining warm and golden on the buildings.
The ever-changing, elusive colors of the sky are a constant fascination for me as a photographer, and even though I never seem to catch the exact views I see, sometimes a shot turns out nicer than I would have hoped.
About this time last year, our friend and neighbor introduced us to the native edible fungi of our very own Southern California mountains. He is an expert, and he foraged prized chanterelle mushrooms from the damp winter woodland - even from the oak-leaf and pine-needle soil of the narrow strip beside our shared driveway.
Here's another photo of the same cluster.
What of these graceful little lampshades, growing on a rotting fallen oak tree?
Or these, another pretty gilled 'shroom with a red velvet lampshade? You never know.
Along the trail, a fallen oak tree hosted multiple species of fungi. These pretty little coral-pink bubbles are the size of pearls.
On the same tree, these fungi grew. They may be Trametes versicolor, which has the delightful common name of "Turkey Tail."
One oak stump grew lots of fungi, including these bright orange mushrooms that were starting to liquify as they rotted. They stained my fingers bright orange where I touched them. Yuk!
Here are some small puffed mushrooms with textured caps. I'm not sure what they are.
One of my favorites from my summer working at the beach. The stark noon sun turns a bicycle rack into something special.
We spent the day after Christmas hiking in Red Rock Canyon.
Then we went home for our Boxing Day dinner.
It involved pie.
....peacefull was the night
Whispering new joyes to the milde Ocean,
After a week of storms, the weather has cleared, the sky is washed clean by the storm and the ocean here off Castle Rock, Pacific Palisades, is blue.
Here's a hardy survivor - a geranium in the pots by our gate unfurls a rosy, clenched blossom, after the drenching rain.
When we traveled to Seattle this autumn - returning to a place we once lived - we discovered a new restaurant in an old and historic neighborhood.
I stood in the doorway and took this photo.
I took another photo from the pantry - which is rich with ingredients, and a library of cookbooks, and the hanging pots and pans used in the craft of making delicious meals.
We had cabin fever. We were rained in. It was a cold winter day with nothing to do. There was no sun to slip down past the yardarm - the sun hadn't been seen in days.
Cheers!
The trolley goes by, in Tampa's Ybor City, on a rainy night in March. The colors here just look like candy to me.
Heathrow airport, December 2010
This fellow came out during a lull in a chill February rainstorm. Since today we're experiencing a similar slam from the elements, it's a good photo to share.
The rain started Friday morning. It came down without stopping all day, throughout the night, and the drizzle continued into Saturday morning.
We found a seaside dining room, overlooking the beach. Grey storm clouds loom overhead.
Here's an adventurous guy taking advantage of the high surf.
Stay warm and dry everyone!
