Jim was down by the wood pile, which isn’t too far from the road. He saw a Jeep go by, then the driver slam on the brakes and back up. Soon a little Hmong man gets out, climbs up the bank and starts picking mushrooms off one of the dead trees on our land. He picked as many as he could reach, put them in a gunny sack and then drove off without ever noticing that Jim was right there watching him.
Later that day we go out and see what these mushrooms look like. Obviously they must be edible. I looked them up in my Mushroom Book and find out they’re called Oyster Mushrooms and are considered choice edible mushrooms. Even though I like mushrooms, you won’t catch me eating the wild ones.
Here’s one he couldn’t reach.