If a mushroom picker falls in the forest, do the mushrooms hear, and if they do, do they cheer? That was the comment that Chris, my walking partner and wife of 43 years made this morning.
Why may you ask did she ask that question? Well, we were on our morning walk up the road to the Clarke Farm to get some eggs. There, in the woods, next to the road, I spotted a mushroom. Because it has been such a tremendously terrible (am I sounding a bit Trump-ish?) year for mushrooms, any sighting is a “must look closer” opportunity.
Off the road I went, onto this rather steep slope, with a creek at the bottom. I gingerly worked around this big cedar (should have known it would likely be nothing) until I came up to the sighting. Chris asks “what is it?” I say “just a Russula”. On my way back to the road, I slipped in to a hole next to the cedar root, up to my hip. It was my right leg, not my left with the bad knee, but still the left knee complained loudly!!
Took me a couple of moments to determine that I wasn’t going down the slope into the creek, a couple more to look for something to help me out of the hole and a few more for the complaining knee that had to flex rather suddenly, to calm down.
I grabbed a sapling as a life line and hauled myself out of the hole. Too bad Chris or I didn’t bring our phones for a picture, or for that matter a call to 911….”my husband has fallen and he can’t get out of a hole in the forest!”
It’s funny and it’s not so funny. We were watching the news last night and the stats are that a senior, in BC, falls once every 10 minutes. Chris tells me I am now one of today’s statistics.
I do a lot of solo foraging and I always tell Chris where I am going or leave a note. I always take a cell phone with me, and most places I go too have cell service here on the coast.
I am also, I think, in pretty good shape for someone 64 years old, although a bit clumsy sometimes.
So everyone, I took the fall for you today, but be careful out there.