Apropos of nothing, here are some mushrooms.


They look like albino lilypads from the top.


This one was filled with either dew or deadly poisonous mushroom goop.


There were some amazing ones a week or two ago - tall, red, and pointed like gnome caps - but they've vanished. I searched the internet and couldn't identify them, so they may have been extraterrestrial. We'll never know.

I've been eyeing these sweet little umbrellas for several days, and I'm glad I captured them this morning, because by the end of the day, a groundskeeper had lopped off all their umbrella-tops. No doubt they were thought to be unsightly. I thought they were as decorative or even more so than the fading flowers next to them.


I have no idea what type either of these mushrooms are.


But I have read this wonderful article on how spores launch, so I know all about that.


If you spend more than ten minutes in my company, I will tell you my #1 favorite fact, which is that mushrooms are more closely related to humans than to plants. Then I will recite this article on plant intelligence just to freak you out even more. If I could go to college again, I would become a botanist.

Several years ago I learned that Beatrix Potter was at some point a dedicated mycologist. I thought it was very odd that someone who wrote and illustrated such charming stories full of fuzzy animals would also spend so much time studying and drawing something so disgusting. But now I am an older and wiser person, and I've come to believe mushrooms are extremely beautiful. I still won't eat them, because they feel gross, taste gross, and are more closely related to humans than plants, but I stop to appreciate them when I see them. Especially the delicate underparts (or overparts in the case of the umbrellas). What funny and lovely little creatures they are.

Every beetled basin

Every beetled basin