A cool morning, a comfortable day and a hazy, hazy sunset – so hazy the sun seemed to fade from the sky before it went down.
The daffodils are spent, the lilacs are coming into their glory, and the first crop of dandelions is going to seed.
I finally came up with a justification for dandelion weeding that I’m comfortable with: it reduces the use of herbicides for the neighborhood as a whole. If I can keep down the numbers of dandelions in my yard, it will reduce the number in my neighbors’ yards, so they might spray less – or even not at all – to kill them.
A serendipitous discovery. We were just walking through a park and noticed a dying elm (a favorite of morels, if you’re ever looking). We glanced at each other and looked to the ground and there, by the roots, was a perfect black morel.
We wasted another half hour, at least, looking for more, but found none. I think finding just one was better, anyway. We appreciated it more – all five s lices of it – and we know it was a gift, and not the result of great mushroom-hunting skills. This was the kind of thing I was talking about a few days ago, where things just seem to present themselves to me, without any effort.
We ate it out of the pan, sliced and sautéed in butter, each bite better than the last, because you knew there was that much less left to enjoy.