But how do they do that?
There’s another sign that autmn has arrived. Toadstools. I took some wonderful photos yesterday, which I’m too lazy to add here (besides, this is supposed to be about literary, not photographic imagery).
I am not a mycologist. I know enough not to eat anything of a chlorophyll-free nature that is a) not found in the local supermarket, or b) served in restaurants I cannot afford to frequent. I have a basic memory from some middle-school science class that mentions spores, which are not seeds but also create plants, on a primitive level; leftovers from the dinosaur period.
Still, every year about this time I spot these mysterious growths on lawns, under trees, on trees. The magical part is that they appear, fully grown, overnight. No seedling period, or slow grow up through the weeks. Bingo! Almost like trick photography, or a stunt worthy of Penn & Teller.
From a scientific point of view, it must be very difficult to properly identify anything that is so ephemeral in nature. The names are properly taxonomic, which is impressive and useful for something that may be toxic; “Yes, detective, he died after ingesting a basketful of Amanita phalloides, I believe”. Sound much better that “a brown toadstool”, for the CSI generation.
But I come back to my question: but how do they do that?
