Searching for Treasure; Morels Amid the Squirrels

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Chicken Mushroom, copperhead, Eastern box turtle, Flora and Fauna, gensing, Global Positioning System, GPS, john cleese, morels, mushroom, mushroom hunting, snakes, Squirrels, Sulphur Shelf, treasure, tree bracket fungus, Virginia, Witches Butter

This could be “Tree Bracket Fungus” of the mushroom family, used in folklore for tea when ground to powder, though most are poisonous.

My sister, Susan, and her friend, Jo, showed me where I might find morels in the woods behind our home during their recent visit to Virginia.  “Check again after another week of higher than sixty degree days,” Jo advised when we failed to find any.  This week, as instructed, I set out to scavenge near fallen logs and hardwoods, poking gently at the layers of dead leaves with a sturdy stick.

I skirted the meandering creek in quiet solitude, thinking about our soon-to-be-born granddaughter, and how I might take this same walk with her someday.  I am convinced there is treasure in these woods.  I only need to see it the right way.

Almost stepped on this Eastern Box Turtle taking a nap…

After reading David Taylor’s intriguing book, Gensing, the Divine Root, a few years ago, I hunted unsuccessfully for months in search of green gold; the Root of Life.  Now, I’m after mushrooms.  I found plenty of fungi, but I wanted to find the wrinkly morels; the filet mignon of mushrooms, the epic epicurean delight Susan and Jo drool over just imagining it sautéed in butter.

This might be “Witches Butter” which is harmless, but I’m not sure, so I won’t try it…

Two young squirrels bounded ahead of me, turning often to glare suspiciously at me.  They also searched for treasure.  Near every tree Jo had identified, I found evidence of their digging.  Is it possible they ate morels?  One darted up a tree and chattered angrily at me. “I’m not after your buried nuts!” I insisted.  It darted around the trunk, out of sight.

I found a geocache; the hidden treasure of a game in which participants locate items by using a GPS…

A serpentine shape wiggled in the leaves between me and the tree.  A thin head poised to strike my bare leg if I advanced. There is very little copper in a copperhead.*  It does not shine like the bottom of my Revere Ware! I’d only seen pictures, so I imagined a real one would shimmer a little.  Au contraire, it blended perfectly into the leafy ground cover.  Taking a picture never occurred to me as I slowly stepped backward, like John Cleese in a reverse silly walk.

This might be “Sulphur Shelf” also called “Chicken Mushroom”, but it can be deadly on certain trees, so I’ll just take a picture…

What if more snakes squirmed below the bed of leaves? I arched around the snake, giving it a wide berth, then took off running.  I aimed for the two squirrels who bounded ahead.  They paused to gaze back at me and I read a different expression in their eyes.  They seemed to say, “Follow us, we’ll keep you safe.”  One of them had actually warned me to watch my step!  This idea satisfied me so much, I left the wilderness and aimed for the well-beaten path to continue my walk. “You can have the morels,” I said to the squirrels, really meaning it.  I’d found enough to treasure this day.

* I don’t mind the black ones, when they are underfoot!”  (Memory Lake, Chapter 23, “Going with the Flow.”)

Kyme vs. Schmidty; or, “Why I left IU’s Kelley School of Business”

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accounting, Bloomington Indiana, California, Delta Tau Delta, Indiana University, Kelley School of Business, linguistics, Memory Lake, navigator, Newton, Perdido Key, ROTC, Wall Street Journal

Ever since my camp friend, (the other Nancy!) turned my maiden name, Schmidt, into Schmidty, over thirty years ago, the name has stuck.  After my last summer at camp, I met a chemistry major, Kyme, at a Delta Tau Delta party in Bloomington, IN.  His black curly hair was shorter than most, (though still long by today’s standards).  His perfect posture placed him a head above the crowd, and his manners made him seem older. His bearing drew me toward him like a port in a storm.  Call it love at first sight, a soul finding its destiny, or the force of angels, but before I could question it, I was introducing myself to him.  Later that evening, I learned he was attending Indiana University on an Air Force ROTC scholarship.

Searching for a firm place to walk….

I have always felt the pull of two warring personalities.  Who hasn’t, at some point or other?  (It’s a common thread running through “Memory Lake“.)  I suspect many of you have settled down by now, but being an ambidextrous Gemini, I still feel the pull.  I thrive on the struggle and Kyme helps me find the middle.

At that Delta Tau Delta party, Kyme was a junior and I was a freshman, a young freshman, since I’d graduated high school at sixteen, (turning seventeen days later).  He lived with three clearly focused, intelligent, and brutally honest roommates.  All of them, Kyme especially, challenged me to find my middle.  Opinions needed to be well articulated and backed by facts because nearly every discussion turned into a debate.  Since facts could not be had at the flick of a finger, some debates never ended.  Others turned on the last, best liar.  Craving gravitas, I left the field of linguistics for the Kelley School of Business, and chose accounting as a major.  I subscribed to the Wall Street Journal.  I began following politics.  When they graduated after my sophomore year, despite the great company of my fun, elegant roommate, (Janet of Newton, MA), I missed them.  I missed Kyme.

Kyme at Perdido Key Florida, waiting for me….

He had headed off to California for navigator training.  My mom said, “He is starting a new life without you.  You can finish your degree anywhere.”  Therefore, at the end of my junior year, after passing both semesters of Intermediate Accounting, the weeding out course which sent many students to finance or marketing, I married Kyme.  He really wanted me to have that degree from IU’s Kelley School of Business, and would have waited, but my warring personalities would have drowned in a large corporation, which is where that degree would have landed me. Besides, California sounded way more fun.

I am frequently amazed by all I have accomplished at Kyme’s side over three decades.  He is that steady beach walker who takes the high ground and steers clear of erratic waves and uneven footing.  He plods parallel to shore, walking on firm sand, aiming unwavering for his navigated target.  I dodge the waves, laughing at every near miss, following a zigzag path, usually running to catch up to him.  If I fall behind, he waits.  If I’m about to walk into a fishing line, his deep voice calls, “Schmidty”.  When I take Kyme’s hand, I can walk in the middle with my eyes on the sparkling water and the great, vast horizon beyond, confident in my footing.