Mushrooming

Yesterday I went mushrooming for the first time in my life. I love mushrooms. I also really like the people I go fishing and berry picking with. They are funny, and interesting and have been seasonally collecting things their whole lives. Its the end of the season of mushrooming, so, going into it, I think many of the group weren’t thinking we would find many. But there was still continual discussions about which ones were worth picking up, and which we should leave on the ground.

But the thought came to me halfway through walking around, hearing a drone flyover head. Life can often be like mushrooming at the end of the season. We walk around a beautiful forest together, with that almost being the whole purpose. Yes, we picked up 7 mushrooms in an hour or so, but, we talked, we saw beautiful things, we picked up some spent bullet blanks, we laughed, we took photos, we learned things, we saw scars on the land from war, we ate snacks and walked around an island in the midst of a river bend.

Life, whilst inclusive of collecting “mushrooms”, is more about how enjoyable those around you are. Doing laundry with my favourite person is very fun. And not because laundry is super fun for me. People are. Interacting with people is what life is. Not fancy clothes. Not collecting the most mushrooms. The whole point of collecting mushrooms and wearing fancy clothes is so that we get to control and choose those that we interact with. But… if everyone is similar underneath the clothes and irrelevant of how many mushrooms they have shouldn’t the focus be on which trees we walk past together and how many times we all look up to the trees straining our eyes to see the drone in the skies?

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