In all fairness, I first posted this as a guest blogger last week to my friend's Liz's blog. And seeing how I haven't had time to blog this week, I'm going to post it here as well.
Growing up, it was a right of passage to go mushroom hunting. Many Sunday afternoons, after we had been to church and had lunch, Dad would load my sister and I up to trapse through the woods. In the early years, my sister and I just goofed around. But once we got old enough to find mushrooms, we were good hunters! Dad still jokes he'd go stand near one and say "I think there must be some around here." But I like to think we found some on our own!
Now my husband and kids enjoy heading to one of our wooded properties that adjoin many different farm fields we plant each spring with corn or soybeans. We are on the lookout for the treasure morel mushroom. You can’t travel to any church service, coffee shop or farm commodity meeting this time of year without someone asking you how many mushrooms you have found.
So our yard had not yet been mowed, thanks to the rain we have had. But the sunshine had produced morel mushrooms. A lot of them!