This little one was nearby in the wood chips. I rested the cap on a plastic sheet and itleft a deep brown spore print. I believe this is Leratiomyces ceres, I’m just afraid that I’m influenced by a certain bias because the common name of L. ceres is redlead roundhead.
Let me be your honeytuft, your candle snuff, your pompom, tinder, hoof. Let me wrap my butter cap around you. Be my sugar, quench your thirst. Say tremella mesenterica, I’ll be your exoskeleton. When raindrops fall in scarlet cups or ruffle fine-toothed rims, our spores will rise from coronets, touch silverwood and beetle’s legs– track ways of our scent. From mitosis to meiosis let’s hyphae proliferate, then say apple scab and vomit slime, because it’s not all chanterelles, it’s dead man’s fingers, stinkhorn, stem rot, rust, and peach leaf curl. Let’s praise it all, but especially death, the stew of our saccharine walls. Without leaf waste, mote of ant husk, carrion and dung, there’d be no symbiosis, no mycorrhizal love. Our fruiting bodies wake the dead, the dead from which we’ve sprung.
from Unfurled: Collected Poetry from Northern BC Women, edited by Debbie Keahey
Hey y’all! Here’s a bunch o’ tiny snippets of the cover art for my personal artbook! I’ve been working on this piece for several months now and it’ll be my most detailed piece to date once finished! The kickstarter is on its final week!