Exploring the Great Outdoors

At last, there is enough greenery to let the hens out. Apparently, they feel at home on the range. That's good, because that frees me from picking clover and other greens for them. The apple tree's fallen blossoms get their attention but must not be very filling.

They have wandered through the barbed wire fence into the unoccupied cow pasture. I draw the line at letting them into the garden.

I mulched the entire daylily bed and put up the little fences that I hope will keep the hens from scratching all the mulch away.

Having had my last three remaining hens mysteriously vanish one day while I was away, I only let them out in the late afternoon while I can keep an eye on them. They love their greens but will follow me anywhere for a slice of white bread.

The girls sometimes keep me company while I am kneeling to weed the flower borders. The weather forecast was for rain today, so I was in a weeding frenzy for several days. Even though I can barely straighten up, I consider it a worthwhile energy investment.

They can't be beat for ornamental additions to the landscape. So lifelike.

Back to the Undisclosed Location

When I said, "Let's go look for morels," Lissa corrected me, saying, "Let's go FIND morels."

The river had been out of its banks recently. My one attempt to check out the area ended with my rubber boots sinking in mud. I turned back, lest I become a permanent fixture on the path.

At the morel enclave, Lis found the first few mushrooms. I couldn't seem to see any, because what I was looking for was not what was there. When I finally changed my sights to silt-covered morels, I started to catch up in the race to capture the elusive fungi.

The river was out of its banks on April 6. The morels must have come up in the last couple of days, and pushed up through the silt the receding river left behind. The mesh bags are to let the spores fall out and make more morels.

We never know if we will find the woodland goodies in April or May. Once, I found some in early May in snow. They are tricky.

Driven by extreme greed, we wandered all over, getting snagged on wild rose thorns. Lis found this dear little bird nest on a bit of brush. Only thirst made us give up the search. It was a humid 82 degrees.

Once they had a bath in salt water and several changes of rinse water, they were ready for the skillet. This was our biggest haul, two pounds and three ounces.

Morels are simply more mushroomy than any other mushroom. The flavor is exquisite. I think it's Mother Nature's way of luring us out into the woods in springtime, to enjoy the wonderful wildflowers.

Down on the "bottoms" the phlox are everywhere, in artistically placed nosegays. Like morels, they are not visible from a speeding car.