Too Good

Spoiled. Found another nice patch of morels and made a soup that's more like a stew. Butter, minced onion and mushrooms, a can of chicken broth, with cream added at the end and pulled off the heat. Now that I'm into the swing of it I read about sea-battles, then a couple of interesting pieces on ship-building. I was working on a paragraph, though it's fair to say that I'm always working on a paragraph, and I had completely lost track of time, when Samara called from Denver. A good call, talked about gardening and cooking, and she now wants to visit during morel season. I could leave her my map. Which could be useful. They seem to prefer certain areas, burned hardwood, wild fruit trees, canopied oak, but there's very little pattern I can distinguish, mostly I just walk around carefully, and try and stay one step ahead of the turkeys. I know I'm riding a wave here, the bounty of an exotic, but it's very real, I'm actually drying morels because I can't eat them all fresh. Granted, I'm spending all my time doing this, but what better to do? I got a little turned around today, sat on a stump and enjoyed the illusion of being lost. I was specifically lost, but in general I knew where I was. West and south of the house there are many square miles of unbroken forest, but I know most of the drainages, so I can usually find myself fairly quickly. It starts clouding up again, mid-afternoon, so I walked north until I could sense Upper Twin Creek Road, which hereabouts is called Rocky Fork, then cut back east. I intersect my property down slope, where are three natural terraces that step to the road. They actually look man-made, but I assume settled sandstone dikes. The second was revealed to me as a morel spot some years ago by a hunter (I'd caught a dog of his, and held it), and I found some there, including two large enough to stuff. I'm harvesting them early this year, because of the turkey problem. I'm planning a meatloaf with a thick mushroom gravy. The large ones I'll stuff with cream cheese and minced onion, served on a bed on enchilada/tomato sauce. I realize I'm slightly obsessed, but I'm not a threat. The first little shower came through and perched a perfect crystal on top of every leaf. It's incredibly beautiful for three or four minutes, then it's gone. In a stand of Mountain Laurel today, and the dark green was intense, like with Holly, the leaves are constructed to retain moisture, and they feel plastic. I keep finding myself at the bottom of the hill, no matter how often I swear not another climb. And it isn't too bad because I'm not in a hurry. I'm thinking about a paper, Some Median Plants, that would address the number of miniature plants that grew in a stressed environment. Deep vested thunder, but it's to the SW and that's not my weather side. Still, I'd better go, it's extending all around.