« Overnight, very
Whitely, discreetly,
Very quietly
Our toes, our noses
Take hold on the loam,
Acquire the air.
Nobody sees us,
Stops us, betrays us;
The small grains make room. »
I thought of those opening lines from Sylvia Plath’s Mushrooms when I saw this wonderful boletus mushroom pushing up unexpectedly on the edge of the field. It has been hot and crackling with electricity here, as storm after storm explodes over the countryside.
The plants are tropically lush and the mushrooms early and plump with rain.
This lurid boletus seemed sturdy enough to push a tree aside. A scrape of the turgid yellow flesh revealed red pores which turned bight blue as they instantly oxidised in the stormy sky.
I actually Googled “bruised boletus mushroom” because I really wanted to see the blue! It really is BRIGHT blue!
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It is seriously wierd and surprizingly lurid!
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And I guess blue means it’s poisonous. The poem is very fitting for your post.
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Actually they are edible, but can make some people sick, so are best avoided. It is the innocent looking ones that kill the most people like Destroying Angel!
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Interesting post, such fascinating plants. xx
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I agree and they are always so unexpected! xx
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That is lovely shroom!
Thanks for visiting
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I am glad you were intrigued!
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So not B. Edulis which is what I thought it was as first sight.
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I would be happy to have anything “plump with rain” in our neck of the woods-the plants are screaming for water. 😦
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