It’s been a while since I’ve written. Gosh, how time flies when you don’t
have to keep track of it, no schedules—rising with the sun. That said, when I think about all the
adventures I’ve had in the past few weeks, it feels like a lifetime of
joy. Really, though, it's just so
much harder than I imagined it would be to write out here in the forest.
I'm doing plenty of work... personal growth, learning plants, reading,
thinking, but writing is something I’m having a bit of trouble with. I
keep meaning to try the digital voice recorder that I bought for my research,
which will allow me to simply talk out loud and upload the file with software
I’ve installed on my computer.
In any event, I’m writing now. Lately I have been resonating with the idea that the separation
between nature and us, that false dichotomy we speak of, maybe some of us
actually experience, has contributed to a lot of the disconnection we see, the
disconnection that contributes to many of the social problems we face. Much of
my time out here has been about recognizing that living consciously means that
nature is becoming aware of itself - I am just as the trees are.
We arrived in Telluride today after a lovely visit with the
other Erika Lynn – Roger’s daughter.
We came for the annual Mushroom Festival—the Mushroom Festival, according to some of the
attendees I’ve already met. In the
campground here in town I see mushrooms turned on their heads, cut stems,
people milling around excited about the upcoming forays. Mushroom nerds, just like us. After a leisurely breakfast and a quick
check in at the volunteer station, Mark drove us up to Andre’s secret
chanterelle spot. Sadly, we found
nothing. Well, not nothing… I
found 1 old porcini, a few hedgehogs and deliciosas, and 1 aspen bolete. Turns out, my bag had the most variety
of edibles after a long day on the mountain. Part of me hopes we’ll have better luck at the next spot,
and another part of me dreads processing mushrooms… we have plenty to eat for
the rest of the year, after all.
In the evening, we went to John’s house for dinner. All the older mushroom experts, major
mushroom nerds, were there. The
famous authors of the mushroom bibles.
Mushrooms were laid out all over the counters, finds from various
forays, quite an impressive variety of edibles. There were probably 30 or more guests, and everyone helped
out in the kitchen… cleaning, chopping, telling stories. I found myself hovering over the range,
cooking for the crowd, just where I prefer to be… right in the middle of all
the old guys, doing what I love—feeding people. Everyone loved the morel and cream pasta I whipped up. I’m such a sucker for positive
reinforcement!
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