The Moral of Morels

The other day I was driving towards lake hope when I saw what appeared to be a flat pool with a lot of water flowing from it down into a stream. I’d never seen this before, so I stopped to look it over. I was really hoping to find some tadpoles I could use as fish bait, and the bigger, the better. The pool, like a lot of holes in the nearby hillsides, are actually old coal mines that have been abandoned for the past hundred years or so.

I wasn’t really dressed for tramping around in the weeds, as I had sandals on my feet. To make matters worse, my knees and ankles were giving me a lot of problems lately, so I was concerned about more injuries. Nevertheless, here I was tramping and feeling like a kid (I’m not). I was still trying to find a away over the stream when I almost stepped on it….a single morel mushroom. It was big, and it was growing sideways, like it was bowed down instead of standing upright. I plucked it up, and kept on going. Then I saw another, and another. You know how it goes. I ended up with enough to make a nice dinner for myself. All but one was “bowed down”, growing sideways, not as though they were uprooted. They appeared to grow up, and then bend to the side to grow sideways. Strange.

A couple days later I went back to see if I could find some more, but to no avail. Not even a tiny one could be found. Sometimes you just have to enjoy the wonderful gifts God gives you when He gives them to you, and then they are gone. Some of God’s gifts are just like that…..meant to be relished for a short season, and then remembered with gratitude.

The mushrooms were very good, indeed.


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