Three days ago, I noticed a few small mushrooms crowded into the crotch of a tree stump. When I passed the same spot yesterday, there were suddenly scores of little brownish caps surrounding the stump, from teeny ones just emerged to the largest of one to two inches. They were nestled in vivid green moss, growing on dead wood. In their magical-seeming emergence, I can understand why mushrooms are so prevalent in folklore; they look to be perfect companions for elves and fairies.
Today the mushrooms were almost all gone. Deer tracks near the spot told the story.
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