Some Unstructured Thoughts on Mushrooms

I know it’s approaching that time of year again because of the escalation in fungus related queries to the office. It’s true that if you’re an ecologist there are a lot of that time of the year’s – damn phenology and the disconcerting need we have to find new and interesting ways to mark the passing of time, the loss of another year on the inexorable road towards our inevitable demise – perhaps I should be more specific: Mushroom season is almost upon us, encroaching into our humdrum lives with needle-thin, barely-visible rhizomes that nevertheless cover us in a choking web of suffocating, earthy tendrils. I may be overdoing it ever so slightly.

This is all by way of convolutedly introducing another failure under my ongoing remit of dealing calmly and pleasantly with public queries vis-à-vis the following nugget:

‘I know these mushrooms are poisonous and want to report it. Children might pick them up and eat them.’

A Mystery Mushroom

My favourite thing about this is the lovely insinuation that I know what it is and I’m not going to tell you and if you don’t know, that’s your own fault. Which I suspect means they don’t really know. Now there are many directions I could spiral off into from that sentence: The perceived need to coddle our children by sterilising their engagement with the natural world; the loss of environmental language from our vocabulary; the need for improved ecological education in our young ‘uns; Another quiz – name that fungus (I say Clouded Agaric, my boss says Honey Fungus, but from that photo who the hell can tell?¹).

Instead, I will offer some thoughts and anecdotes on fungal-phobia and fungal-philia. On a recent social engagement (yes, I do actually have a few friends. Well, my wife does, anyway), someone was trying to describe an associates young gentleman friend in terms I could understand and relate to.

‘He forages for mushrooms commercially, you’d like him’ my wife’s friend says.

‘No, oh no I really don’t think I would.’ I didn’t say, because despite appearances I am unceasingly polite. Honest. I also did not say anything about the scourge of fungus foraging on areas of ancient woodland, such as Epping Forest who installed a blanket ban on the activity while I worked there, such was its destructive nature. I did not condemn the ‘pick now, sort it later’ approach many of these ‘foragers’ took and how it can strip an area of fruiting fungal bodies, that this might reduce mushroom yields in subsequent years and the deleterious effect this could have on leaf litter decomposition etc².

Shouldn’t I be encouraging this kind of interaction with the natural environment, I hear you say? Isn’t that your whole schtick? A fair point, and I am leaving myself open to the perennial accusation of eco-snobbery with which I have occasionally been charged, usually with good reason.

The problem is that there are actually very few poisonous mushrooms in this country, but also few that are truly what I’d call edible. Also, some of the poisonous ones have an annoying habit of impersonating the edible ones. And then killing you. Why take the chance? I don’t (unless it’s a really obvious one), and I’m going to give myself the ringing endorsement of ‘not terrible’ at mushroom ID.

Now everyone wants to have a crack at foraging. I blame Mabey. Unfortunately it’s pretty hard to distinguish some mushrooms without picking them, sometimes you have to take them home and get them under a microscope or do a spore print. Not great for the fungus. Isn’t this attitude better than the ‘it must be poisonous’ attitude displayed in the quote at the start of this article though (I hang my head if this actually is a poisonous mushroom)? I suppose a little knowledge can be a dangerous thing, but it is probably preferable to outright ignorance.

¹Correct answer = a lifetime’s free subscription to this blog…etc..etc

²I’d be grateful if anyone is able to point me in the direction of any such research – whether over-foraging results in a marked decrease in fungus yields etc. as the fruiting body is presumably already ‘sporing’…’spored’?…I’m not sure what the correct phrase is.

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Hurrah for Trees! (Trees are Ace)

There was a tree of the year competition (sorry, #treeoftheyear)? I missed that one. Was it on Saturday night TV? (Actually, that would probably have made a half decent program. Better than Springwatch, certainly). Anyway, this reminds me that a couple of years ago I started to compile my ‘Top 10 Trees of Epping Forest’. What the original purpose of this was, I don’t now remember. I can’t quite imagine how I would have managed to convince anyone that it was work related. I’ve dug out the photos from my inept computer filing system (pathway: pictures > pictures > Spike > pictures > 2012 > trees) and it looks like I only got to 5. So to continue this months theme of being positive (yay nature), getting excited about things (this hurts my face) and only writing shiny, happy posts, here they are (next month, if winter ever starts, I will return to being a dedicated miserabilist):

5 – (In fact, imagine this soundtracked by the Thunderbirds countdown to lend it the necessary gravitas)

Grimston’s Oak – Big oak in a clearing in Bury Wood. I haven’t noted whether it is English or Sessile. Found at a junction of 3 paths. I can’t find any details about who Grimston was and don’t remember any anecdotes from my time at the Forest (and they do love an anecdote!). Those with a more sinister bent of mind might like to imagine that those horizontal branches on the right hand side once served an ominous purpose. Not me though. And if you did, you’re clearly wrong-headed and should be sectioned forthwith.

4 – Massive Bugger of a Veteran Hornbeam Pollard in Fairmead

(That’s it’s official name amongst those in the know, in case you were wondering. Honest it is) I don’t think the photo really does the scale of this tree justice. Worth bearing in mind that the bole is at head height, though. It’s a lapsed pollard, of which there are many in Epping Forest, so there’s a danger the limbs will snap. Pollarding is…you know what, I’ve given that talk so many times I can’t be bothered to type it out here. If you don’t already know, go read a book or something (sorry, that was unnecessarily rude. Here’s a link). I have also definitely not tried to climb this tree. Never. How dare you even suggest such a thing!

3 – The Fairmead Oak

Ok, what’s left of the Fairmead Oak, anyway. Such an awesome tree (and so artistically shot in black and white by myself (I had just worked out how to use that function)), you might have noticed that it is the background image for this very blog. It is Phoenixing quite wonderfully and you can probably just make out the regrowth coming from the snap point. Who knows, might even survive.

2 – The Lost Pond Coppard

Huge diameter, about 20-30 feet maybe? It’s been coppiced then pollarded. Pretty Cool. Just look at the base of that thing. If you were a child (or of a childish frame of mind), it makes an excellent hide-and-seek apparatus. I, of course, being a grown adult man have done no such thing. Don’t be foolish! And I certainly wasn’t on my own when I didn’t do it.

I think this was actually Epping Forest‘s official entry for the ‘competition’, but it’s not the best, oh no (and that is FACT, not merely my subjective aesthetic opinion). The best tree is…drumroll…                .                                                                                                                               .                                                                                                                                                                                        .

1 – Honey Lane Quarter Oak

My, the tension was palpable there, wasn’t it? This English Oak is awesome, gnarled and just all-round pretty damn cool. Obviously this rather arty photo was taken by somebody with a little more camera-type skills than my point and click efforts (in fact, if you look closely you will see me in the shot, leaning thoughtfully against the trunk, like some kind of enigmatic troubled soul). It is found just off the road at Honey Lane Quarter past High Beach, and as far as I am aware it does not currently have a name. Although now it does, because right this second I have named it Spike’s Oak. And who says I can’t?

Veteran trees are undoubtedly cool, and anyone who says otherwise is a fool (and I like to make up a tree-based rhyme pretty much all of the time). Seriously, this ‘Tree of the Year’ thing is all I ever hear about from the ‘kids’ when I hang out on the ‘street’. And why the heck not? This is the point where I remark that at least they have more personality than your standard X-factor contestant etc and so forth. But I wouldn’t do that. Trees are made of wood, they don’t have a personality. They are awesome though. Except for Sycamores, they’re a bit crap.