Yesterday, while walking through a local wood, I couldn't resist the temptation to plunge down into a re-entrant (a little valley) which is always filled with a deep mattress of fallen leaves. As I climbed out of the far side my way was blocked by a fallen beech tree. While surveying whether I could clamber over it, I noticed that its moss-covered trunk was decorated with shining white fungi. Their caps glistened in the light filtering through the woodland canopy and were so colourless that they appeared almost translucent. They looked like porcelain. That triggered a bit of buried nature knowledge – it must be porcelain fungus!
Entranced by their beauty I took several photographs on my phone of different clumps. I even ducked under the trunk to photograph some from below to record their gill structure. I noticed how they slowly decayed, becoming creamy and opaque then gradually curling up pale brown and looking much like an autumn leaf.
While totally absorbed I became aware of light drops on my hair and heard them landing on the lead litter around me. It had been forecast to rain, but I was feeling no wetness. Turning my attention to this new phenomenon, I realised that it was indeed dry rain. Showers of beechmast were falling from high above whenever a breeze stirred the tree canopy.
I love to stand under a beech tree as the little triangular nuts patter down onto the leaf litter of the woodland floor. It’s like a blessing. Food for wildlife – and me. Beechmast makes a tasty snack, although stripping each little package of its tough skin is time consuming. So I gathered a few, admiring the sheen on their three flat sides, and put them into my pocket for later.
Even though we have yet to have a frost in this corner of Scotland (the first ones used to arrive in August, after children had returned to school), it is definitely autumn now. Hazel leaves have turned yellow, and holly berries red, while rowans are bent with their burden of berries – a heavier load than I ever remember seeing before. Soon acorns will be raining down in the wood too.
[This short personal post is me getting into gear for my publication, which I plan to start before the end of 2024].
I remember regularly eating beechmast as a child. An enormous beech tree stood on the green in front of the flats where I lived, and the little nuggets of tasty beech nut were gathered by all the kids who played there. On a recent re-visit to my childhood home town, I noticed that the tree was no longer there.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen porcelain fungi, it’s beautiful. Thank you for sharing these photographs. And your description is exquisite.
True, it takes a little time. If you have any specific questions, you’re welcome to fire them my way. I’m obviously no guru but after nine months doing both my own and OWPG Substacks I’ve sussed a few things.
My latest discovery, for example, is custom buttons which can be a quick way to do various things—including ‘buy me a coffee’. It’s too soon to say what the response might be though.
Other things include the ability to import posts from an existing blog—mine came across intact, including web links and images, so just needed to add Substack buttons. And if you have an existing email list with MailChimp, MailerLite, etc., can import that too.