Edited by Clive Hilton, Saturday, 24 Jul 2010, 00:27
In much the same way that I'm no twitcher, but I like to see birds as I go about my everyday business, I'm no mycologist, but I am curious about funghi.
My garden, over the course of a year, throws up all kinds of weird and wonderful funghi; from ubiquitous small brown toadstool type things to the rather more bizarre offerings that seem entirely otherworldly. I've gradually come to know some of them by name, which, according to one guide on mushrooms and toadstools that I own, is at least a small step on the way of avoiding death - or at least, a very unpleasant few days of the heebie-jeebies - by inadvertant misidentification and ill-advised consumption.
Among the mushrooms that have stuck in my mind is one that I only know based purely on a single image and a rather lurid description of its lethal capacity. It's called the Poison Pie. And for good reason. Its cap is about the same size - with looks to match - as a pastry topping to some delicious cooked pie. And therein lies the peril. Its appetising looks flatter to deceive the unwary for it contains toxins that can most certainly kill if eaten.
My guide tells me that it's not particularly uncommon, yet in more than half-a-century on this planet I've never knowingly seen one in the flesh, as it were. Until yesterday. Walking back with the children from a trip to a local park, there it was, beside the path; every inch a perfect Poison Pie. Innocent as you like. It evoked in me precisely the same reaction I experienced when I came across my first Destroying Angel (and my first Death cap, come to think of it).
Bugger me these things can kill you and here it is, bold as brass and right out in the open where anyone can see them. What a nerve.
They really do exist. Sometimes, one has to see things to really believe in them.
They don't exist until you see one
In much the same way that I'm no twitcher, but I like to see birds as I go about my everyday business, I'm no mycologist, but I am curious about funghi.
My garden, over the course of a year, throws up all kinds of weird and wonderful funghi; from ubiquitous small brown toadstool type things to the rather more bizarre offerings that seem entirely otherworldly. I've gradually come to know some of them by name, which, according to one guide on mushrooms and toadstools that I own, is at least a small step on the way of avoiding death - or at least, a very unpleasant few days of the heebie-jeebies - by inadvertant misidentification and ill-advised consumption.
Among the mushrooms that have stuck in my mind is one that I only know based purely on a single image and a rather lurid description of its lethal capacity. It's called the Poison Pie. And for good reason. Its cap is about the same size - with looks to match - as a pastry topping to some delicious cooked pie. And therein lies the peril. Its appetising looks flatter to deceive the unwary for it contains toxins that can most certainly kill if eaten.
My guide tells me that it's not particularly uncommon, yet in more than half-a-century on this planet I've never knowingly seen one in the flesh, as it were. Until yesterday. Walking back with the children from a trip to a local park, there it was, beside the path; every inch a perfect Poison Pie. Innocent as you like. It evoked in me precisely the same reaction I experienced when I came across my first Destroying Angel (and my first Death cap, come to think of it).
Bugger me these things can kill you and here it is, bold as brass and right out in the open where anyone can see them. What a nerve.
They really do exist. Sometimes, one has to see things to really believe in them.