Mushrooms! Heaps of them! Yesterday mamma and I headed for the woods to do a bit of mushrooming before the frost nips over the land. It was a glorious day with a proud sun blazing over the rolling hills and the woods full of cool mosses and shifting hues and leaves floating lazily through our field of vision. Karl--a man with a twinkle in his eye and a white beard, a sure sign of gnome magic--and his wife were our gentle guides, and he led us to a location which I cannot divulge; I am sworn to secrecy. It helps, of course, that I do not possess a keen geographic mind or that we took so many turns on the road I have only a muddled recollection of directions. But I can tell you it was deep in the woods.
We were on the hunt for chanterelles, which are distinguished by their funnel-shaped crowns and the veining underneath. And we found enough to fill all our buckets--our guides exclaimed in surprise at the amount we found. They had never seen so many in so small a space.
A short respite
I found a bit of heaven in the earth.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep
but I have promises to keep
But I must disagree with you, Mr. Frost, just this one time, for this day my promises were to the woods.