Fun guy finally finds elusive fungi
- John Lorson: The Rail Trail Naturalist
- June 4, 2021
- 1403
Dryad’s saddle, also known as pheasant back or hawk’s wing, is a shelf or bracket fungi often found growing on the sides of trees (either dead or alive) most typically in May or June, and it can reach quite an impressive size. The specimen in the center is the size of a pizza pan. While the latter two names refer to the colorful “feathered” pattern on the face of the fungus, the first is perhaps the most intriguing as one could easily imagine a little dryad (or wood nymph) seated happily upon the fungus looking out over its forest domain.
It has been said — and I have little doubt it is actually true — that “even a blind squirrel finds a nut every once in a while.” Squirrels seem to possess a whole crazy mess of sensory awareness, so imagining they seek their food with eyes alone is a bit of a stretch anyway. I figure a squirrel would have a much harder time finding its way from branch to branch if it were denied even the sight of one eye since binocular, or “two-eyed” vision, is crucial for depth perception.
If you’ve ever watched one of these critters move through the treetops, you know exactly how important it is for them to know how far it is to the next branch.
The old maxim is not meant to disparage the little tree-top flufftails anyway. It’s actually targeted at people that seem to find entirely unwarranted success in some endeavor for which they are utterly unqualified. A perfect example came just a few weeks ago when I told a friend I had found a morel mushroom. “Well, even a blind squirrel … ,” she said.
The whole truth is that despite living in and wandering through prime mushroom territory my entire life and even growing up in a family of master mushroom hunters like my grandma Bishop, who seemed to literally summon the sponges from the ground with her walking stick, I had never found a single spore of the Midwest’s favorite fungus.
As a child I spent hours walking the woods with both my mom and grandma and never even saw a mushroom until it was already in the bag. At some point I resigned myself as unworthy of such treasure.
Then one morning during this spring’s crazy heatwave, I was pedaling along the trail wondering what was wrong with me. I mean I can spot a tiny chickadee in a tree a thousand feet away, but I can’t find something the size of a corncob right under my own feet? “Come on, Lorson, you can do better than that,” I grumbled.
Then, as if by magic, I spotted a pale, spongy cone poking through the leaves near a fallen tree about 20 feet ahead of me and within three steps of the trail.
I jammed on the brakes and circled back around, but the thing seemed to have disappeared. Standing still over the bike, I could not find that mushroom to save my life, so I re-enacted the sighting by circling back yet again and then rolling slowly toward the spot. Low and behold the mushroom appeared, seemingly aglow, spotlighted by a single ray of morning sunshine. I plucked my prize and carried it triumphantly the rest of the way to work in my cupped hand.
While morels seem to have eluded me forever, I’ve steadily entertained myself by photographing a slew of different fungus species over the years. I never even think about eating anything beyond a morel, however. I recall learning about a case of poisoning from a species mistaken as edible way back when I was in college that wiped out an entire family, and I decided then and there I was sticking to Portobello caps from the market to satisfy my fungal appetite. I leave the good stuff in the woods for the folks who really know what they’re doing.
As photos go, mushrooms are a real delight to shoot, and people seem to love looking at them. Additionally, each offers an interesting, new learning opportunity as I look up the details of what I have found. A good field guide can bring years of enjoyment, and you can find one on darn near any subject you can imagine.
The National Audubon Society and Peterson each have fantastic offerings in this category, but there are many others as well. (Father’s Day is right around the corner. Hint, hint.)
If you have access to a smartphone, iNaturalist, PlantSnap and Picture This are all great apps for identifying and learning more about what you’ve encountered in the wild. Get out there and see what you can find. If even a blind squirrel can do it, so can you.
Remember, if you have comments on this column or questions about the natural world, write The Rail Trail Naturalist, P.O. Box 170, Fredericksburg, OH 44627, or email jlorson@alonovus.com. You also can follow along on Instagram @railtrailnaturalist.