Finding Fungi
by Thomas Keating-Jones
Walking in the rain is terrible fun.
It’s terrible,
And it’s fun!
Searching for fungi makes it worthwhile!
I mean it’s not that you would choose a day like this
(Unless you’re my mum!)
We have to go slow . . . drip, drip
dripping along
drip, drip
dripping rain on my hair!
It’s like a song where we do the walking
and the mushrooms do the talking
listen….
I am listening to the fungi talking through my feet.
guiding me to the next discovery
camouflaged amongst the leaves
some under the trees.
some in the moss.
… magical mushrooms
I walk in the woods
I step carefully
listen . . .
Go quietly. . slow, slow
for underground stories are around each corner.
along with huge puddles
when you walk in the English rain!
We have to go slow . . . drip, drip,
dripping along
drip, drip,
dripping rain on my hair!
It’s like a song where we do the walking
and the mushrooms do the talking
listen . . .
Next time I plan to bring my goggles and snorkel!
Walking in the rain is terrible fun!
It’s terrible
And it’s fun!
Searching for fungi makes it worthwhile!
Finding a purple Mushroom for grandma her favourite colour.
How beautiful . I saw the fairies and the fairy ring when I sneaked up.
A little kingdom . We feel like Gulliver in Lillyput land
We have to go slow . . . drip, drip,
dripping along
drip, drip,
dripping rain on my hair!
Thank you Elizabeth and William, Thomas and Eleanor, your walk in the English countryside was the incentive to go out into the Australian bush looking for fungi and mushrooms, the little secrets of the earth.
a meeting
Colleen Keating
‘How shall I walk in the world
But looking for light and wisdom” M. Oliver
you rise after rain
in autumnal mist
to walk out
and slow
not expecting to meet a prophet
calling in the wilderness
until you hear
a whisper of colour
Gulliver in Lillyput
you bend closer
your giant hands
part the grass
for secrets of the earth
gazing
stunned with humble beauty
the tiny mushrooms
slight and lowly
strong and perfect
caps intact
have pushed up
from the dung of darkness
smelling earthy and dank
their miniture purple parasols
with ivory ruffled collars
nod slightly
very quietly
that moment
even eclipses the water lilies
that emerge from deepest mud
on return the next day
there is only soggy earth
brambles and mulch of leaves
as if they had never been
Colleen Keating
.
