A'Mushroom Hunting We Go

There’s something invigorating about a chilly overcast autumn morning when you’re able to sit on a porch drinking a fresh cup of coffee while simply pondering aimlessly. The light breeze through the trees and overall serenity take me back to cabin life…and all at once…I’m a bit homesick. I yearn for those long weekends at the cabin; where days are spent on the lake with margarita breaks and playing Screw Your Neighbor with grandma, and nights around the bonfire, roasting marshmallows and watching the stars above. Generally speaking, all activities you can do almost anywhere in the world but make all the difference when done not just anywhere but at home.

Regardless of how much you enjoy something, someone, somewhere…it can become too much. Living in a foreign place amongst different mentalities, methods and processes is beyond fascinating but every now and then, all those constant reminders that you don’t belong stack up too high and come tumbling down.

And on that note…I’m anxiously awaiting the arrival of my parents next week. They couldn’t be coming at a better time. I’m hoping that experiencing a little piece of home will recharge my batteries for the next 8 months but sometimes I merely miss the natural familiarity of home…the automatic comfort you experience by simply knowing what’s going on around you. Either way, I haven’t seen my mom and dad in the flesh for over a year… what if it’s weird? What if things aren’t the same anymore? What if we don’t have anything to talk about – will the long silences be awkward? Fortunately, these flashes of panic are slashed by the pure excitement and the warmth that will soon envelop my heart. The anticipation has reached its max and has left me in a glass cage of emotions.

And back to the original thought spurred by mushroom hunting…

At what point do we lose touch with nature? When do we begin to ignore the organic in order to replace it with the synthetic? Where along the life spectrum does the turning point occur? I suppose the easy answer comes down to time and money. Advantageous aspects indeed but something is lost…more than knowledge, more than survival instinct…we lose that mystical yet spiritual connection with the earth, that puts us back into our place as a small figment of the world, where in reality, we don’t really matter and thus, neither do any of our problems.

Spending my summers in northern Minnesota I considered myself to have a fairly decent grasp on wilderness wit. However, as soon as I began venturing out with Romanians – I was quickly proven otherwise - time and time again. Apparently, you can eat everything. Little did I know, I shouldn’t eat before I go hiking for there are berries, leaves, apples, mushrooms, pears, things that look like berries, plums and tree sap to ingest. Although a bit hesitant at first, I put my life into their hands. How else is one suppose to fully immerse themselves culturally? Unless there is a slow release toxin, I have survived all the outings thus far. The only minor exception was with the tree sap. Word on the street is that once sap has sat out (or stuck onto the tree) long enough, you can chew it like gum. Regrettably, my wad hadn’t sat out quite long enough. The bitter stickiness created a lock-jaw sensation between my top and bottom teeth. Despite how many other berry things or leaves I ate, my sap continued to double as an oral adhesive and that foul taste persisted. I refrained from swallowing any of it for if actual gum stays in your stomach for 7 years, can you imagine how long this gooey matter would remain?

Weeks later, I finally had my break…I found something we could eat…the Honeysuckle.