There has been a proliferation of mushrooms growing all over the neighbourhood lately–Autumn is mushroom season in British Columbia. The ones in my neighbourhood that are the obvious showboats are those big red-capped ones with the white bits stuck all over the top. They’re called Fly Agaric or, for those who favour Latin botanical names, Amanita Muscaria. Fly Agarics are the toadstools of our childhood literature, although illustrators definitely went to work to clean them up visually before showing them sheltering faeries during gentle rain showers or posed with butterflies resting on top for a spell.
In truth, Fly Agaric mushrooms are poisonous, so don’t go about licking or sauteing them or slicing them into a salad. The information on them suggests that they may have a hallucinogenic effect on the idiot who decides to try one for that reason, but also mentions that of those who have tried, none have chosen to repeat the experiment. Be warned and respect the experiences of others!
Some of the Fly Agarics I see around here are standing alone, as if waiting patiently for an Uber, while others are clustered in groups of 4 or 5, looking for all intents and purposes as if they’re placing bets on some upcoming event—like an Uber arrival. There are some whose colourful red caps haven’t yet started to extend out like an umbrella, some that have grown their caps to full size—often the size of my hand—and others that have now relaxed upward into a bowl shape as they move into their final phase of development. To me, all of these stages are fascinating.
Close to the end of our block, a large tree had to be taken down several years ago after an even bigger one from the other side of the street tipped over onto it during a fierce windstorm. The arborist cut it off at its ankles to put it out of its misery and now, years later, I’ve noticed that although the flat top has long since scarred over, it is now sporting a lush ruffle of Turkey Tail mushrooms clustered along its sides. They are eye catching and graphic because of their lateral growing patterns, and they ignite my creative mind as I study them from this side and then from that side. I’ve drawn the line at laying flat on my stomach on the neighbour’s lawn in order to study them at eye level, because of my age. Turkey Tails are medicinal mushrooms that are far too tough to slice into tonight’s pasta dish, although they are often dried and sold in a ground or powdered form for soups, stews, and teas. Although they are chocked full of nutrients, you won’t catch me, under the cover of night, scraping the Turkey Tails off of that tree stump down the block any time soon. We live on a popular dog walking route. Ew.
The neighbour to the other side of us has a generous crop of Winter Chanterelles. You remember the Chanterelles—they had a hit in 1958 with the song “Maybe”? Just testing—that was the Chantels. Moving along… The Winter Chanterelles from next door seem to have just sprung up overnight and appear eager to make friends in their new neighbourhood. Chanterelles never go anywhere alone, it’s kind of their way—either we go in a clump, or we don’t go at all! The clump from next door comes across as a strikingly healthy bunch and in this season of slowed growth and hibernation, their vitality really makes a statement when your eyes spy this little tribe stretching onto its very tip toes in order to see as far as possible along the sidewalk. I’m always very quiet when I walk by them because there’s a side of me that fully expects to hear tiny voices calling out early morning greetings.
Down at the botanical garden, there’s a wonderful Fairy Ring of Blewit mushrooms. Blewits are a common species here and have, not surprisingly, faintly blue or light purple/grey gills. Most legends surrounding the formation of Fairy Rings suggest that they are made by faeries or elves dancing in a circle. I like the sound of that. I like to think that elves and faeries have just so much happiness in their lives that they all dance around in a circle leaving mushrooms planted in their wake!
There are several other species of late Autumn mushrooms that are noted by the area Mycologists (there’s a profession to suggest to the teen in your life who can’t figure what they want to do after their Victory Lap!) but here in the city they are either very shy or not able to stand living in such a busy and populated spot (the mushrooms not the Mycologists) ( I have no current data about the Mycologists). You should know that most cities and towns in Canada have either a Mycological Society that you can join (no doubt meeting once a month in a dark damp place!) or at least a foraging guide who would be eager to answer any questions that you might have.
The rules of the forage must not be questioned. Do not forage solely on information you find on the Internet, instead get yourself a foraging book that has been published by someone in your region who knows what your area can expect. Since edible mushrooms are not obviously distinguishable from poisonous or non-edible ones, if you find a mushroom that doesn’t fall clearly into one category or the other, keep the sample separated from your other finds and get the opinion of an experienced forager before you attempt to eat it. Make careful note of which mushrooms MUST be cooked before being eaten. Checking with your reputable foraging person or book will help you decide which yours are. Foraging is forbidden in all of our Provincial Parks, allowed with owner permission on private property, and open to all on Crown land.
For those who would rather just marvel at the visual spectacle of the mushrooms they come across in their day-to-day lives, just keep your eyes lowered and searching, and by all means, if you are lucky enough to come across a Fairy Ring, take the opportunity to dance around inside of it for sheer joy!
It’s a great year for mushrooms here too, some huge ones that are not edible but also lobster and chanterelle mushrooms. I haven’t tried to pick any yet.