Autumn is my favourite time of the year, especially in the Dandenong Ranges. The European trees along Sherbrooke Road present a metamorphic spectacle. The perfect blue sky days, crisp and fresh. The overwhelming desire to curl up in a chair with a blanket and a good book. The smell of smoke escaping chimneys all over the hill. The mist in the mornings settling over the flatlands, making me feel like I am floating above the clouds. It’s magical.
The real magic for me can be found at ground level. Initially. The beginning of Autumn heralds the arrival of fungi. The fairylike Amanita Muscaria first, with their red caps and white polka dots. Pushing up through the earth, to awe us with their otherworldliness. Followed by a myriad of little brown mushrooms, nondescript, yet utilitarian. Not wanting to attract too much attention. Pragmatic, functional, sensible.
As the season becomes wetter, the Amanita Phalloides begin their emergence. Deathly and white. One single mushroom can kill several unsuspecting people. Ironically, they are perhaps the most beautiful and elegant fungi I have seen. Their tops sheen with a metallic green tinge, at the beginning. This dissipates as they grow. Always under oak trees, and easy to mistake for something else. Their nefarious nature unintentional.
The fungi begin appearing through the mud and leaf detritus. They are particularly fond of mulch. However, before long they begin their march up the trees. My focus readjusts to search up mountain ash and on any decaying wood in the forest. The variety increases, the colours explode. The forest becomes a wonderland of magic for those who look. For those prepared to brave the wet and the cold. And the leeches.
During COVID lockdowns Sherbrooke became my psychologist, my gym, my additional living space, and my entertainment. I could crawl through the forest floor undisturbed. Echidnas, wombats, lyrebirds, and kangaroos the only other creatures I would see. Hours and hours of photographing fungi. My interest hasn’t waned, although my available time has. I continue to post the occasional photos to keep Dad happy. He berates me but I know he holds a secret interest in the magical mycelium.
Love it! Words and pictures complete our mountain autumn.