September 2008 Archives

Some mornings I feel upset by the bedraggled state of this summers' wildlife. A group of pheasants grubbing their way along a mud-fringed hedgerow; sparrows, blue tits and blackbirds with tails and flight feathers shabby after another nights blustering rain which has driven into their overnight shelters; a few brown butterflies being blown about with frayed wings.
Even the sturdy oaks, chestnuts and sycamores for several weeks have been suffering unusual patterns of premature dieback, brought on by strong winds, wet and lack of sunlight. Much of nature is giving up on this summer, probably the worst since records were begun. Last summer is now the close second.
But its no use letting personal opinions influence what we see going on. Nature simply doesn't recognize anything to do with human feelings. Instead most wildlife is coldly indifferent to anything but the simple rules of survival and successful breeding.
So I was gladdened to come across some ramblers crossing the Llôn Goed in a swirling mist. Their laughter could be heard miles away. Out of the city for a few days, their main focus was collecting mushrooms.
I was given a glimpse inside a knapsack. Brilliant colours, amazing shapes, and they assured me, their evening feast.
The traditional autumn fruiting season for mushrooms and most other fungi has radically altered over recent years. First sightings begin in June and they continue till December.
This is because of the wet summers and warmer, frost-free autumns.
Fungi live underground. They have vast subterranean networks, which have special relationships with the roots of trees and plants, supplying them with nutrients. The mushroom or fruiting body is a tiny, seasonal part whose job is to pop above ground and spread spores into the wind. They love our wet, warm, twilight weather.
And they also like soil which has been undisturbed for a long time. Woodland, churchyards, cemeteries and old, mossy pastures are their havens.
So North Wales is a happy place for toadstools and toadstool lovers.
I've never been especially fond of their tastes and find most of them to be on the verge of edibility. By myself I wouldn't feel confident enough to be sure I had got the right identification.
But I am always drawn to their fascinating shapes, beautiful colours and amazing overnight appearances.
The picture shows a couple of sudden appearances at the back of our house. At first glance I thought they were a couple of aliens, just landed.
Some one told me that these large fruiting bodies were good to eat when sliced up and cooked in olive oil. Then another said they would give a bad stomach!
Can anyone help about whether these are ok to eat?