WINTER BALLERINAS.

Beneath the leafy mantle that adorns the woods with crimson hues, oranges, and an endless array of yellows and shades of brown – colors I never thought would exist – a silent ballet unfolds. Winter mushrooms shyly unfurl their umbrellas, gracefully weaving their way through the leaves that adorn their dance with the colors of autumn

Their bodies resemble dancers emerging on a natural stage. Some are like purple musical notes, the rarer ones in yellow, and countless more manage to hide from view. Intermittent rays of the sun weave through the branches, creating a symphony of lights and shadows that illuminates the small fungal umbrellas

It is a day where light plays hide and seek, flirting with everything in its path, like a poem unfolding line by line. The mushrooms, patient protagonists, make their way through the leaves, which, in turn, serve as a refuge for tiny creatures or simply await the elements, the forest inhabitants, to transform them into nutrients for the soil. I know they will return to life in one way or another

Each mushroom is an event of mystery and renewal, a whisper in the silence of the forest, celebrating the transition of seasons. The rejuvenation of the soil, the transformation of matter – one of the most modest, devout, and crucial contributors to the constant cycle of life, regeneration, and death that governs the woods..

The sun, an accomplice to this fleeting spectacle, peeks through the branches to caress the scene with its golden rays, like a final act of autumn, as winter draws near.

On this day of flickering radiance, winter mushrooms claim their spotlight among the fallen leaves, offering a unique choreography, a visual gift that only the stillness of the forest can bestow.

After two hours, I return home, with no evidence of my tale except for the brimming basket resting in the kitchen’s dining area, my boots caked in mud, and the last sip of tea from the flask bearing witness to my journey. Believe it or not, it doesn’t matter.

This narrative concludes as the firewood in the fireplace dwindles, the warmth emanating from the embers diminishes, and suddenly, the desire to write fades away.

Winter treats

Last modified on 2023-11-14