The End Days

Long time readers of this blog will know that towards the latter parts of April and the first week or so of May, I descend into madness. Morel madness that is. I find myself wandering the woods of southeast Iowa, picking off ticks before they can attach themselves to me, all to find a lot of what you see above. However, I find myself quickly approaching the time where I will have to find something else to consume me and will go mushroom hunting no more, at least purposely. I've been hunting for morels in the same wooded draws for more than 40 years. In the large majority of those 40 plus years, I have found enough to sate my appetite even though these delicacies only grow for a couple weeks a year. But the last handful of years, I've found fewer and fewer mushrooms. Probably a large part of it is just me. My eyes aren't any better than they were when I was younger and living 40 miles away from the areas I hunt, I certainly don't get down to look as often as I did when I...