Hi All. We haven’t posted much lately because Charlie has spent most of his free moments packing and preparing for a move to Cedar Rapids next week. And I’ve been totally absorbed in preparing for upcoming gigs and making my new camper van.
Fortunately one of our readers, Julie Johnson, provided a lovely mushroom picture that inspired me to share a warning with you all. Julie also sent a wonderful poem that inspires all of us to consider deity from a much more humble perspective and perhaps question our own perspectives.
First the warning: The delightful looking little mushrooms pictured are almost undoubtedly from the genus Lepiota or small parasol mushrooms. The cactus in the picture certainly loves them for they break down the soil into nutrients. However, if a small child or pet were to eat them there is a possibility that they could be very dangerous. So don’t leave mushrooms where small children or pets might eat them. Most mushrooms in our flower pots, yards and gardens are harmless and beneficial to the plants, but a few could be very poisonous to people and animals.
Interestingly, some large parasol mushrooms, Macrolepiota, are among our tastiest mushrooms, but there’s risk with those too. I’ll share a couple good stories about being humbled by them in a future blog. But for today, I’ll just end with the poem.
archy meets warty bliggens
By Don Marquis
i met a toad
the other day by the name
of warty bliggens
he was sitting under
a toadstool
feeling contented
he explained that when the cosmos
was created
that toadstool was especially
planned for this personal
shelter from sun and rain
thought out and prepared
for him
do not tell me said warty bliggens
that there is not a purpose in the universe
the thought is blasphemy a little more conversation revealed
that warty bliggens considers himself to be
the center of the said
universe
the earth exists
to grow toadstools for him
to sit under
the sun to give him light
by day and the moon
and wheeling constellations
to make beautiful
the night for the sake of
warty bliggens
to what act of yours
do you impute
this interest on the part
of the creator
of the universe
i asked him
why is it that you
are so greatly favored
ask rather
said warty bliggens
what the universe
has done to deserve me
if i were a human being i would
not laugh
too complacently
at poor warty bliggens
for similar
absurdities
have only too often
lodged in the crinkles
of the human cerebrum
archy
Just to mention, a couple of days later those little white fellas had opened up like small, pale umbrellas. And five rainy days later, they’d sunk into a brownish mass, but a small white duplicate is coming up nearby. Guess they knew what they were doing.
Don Marquis’ “archy” was a cockroach who’d been a poet in a previous life and went into the newspaper office at night to type out his thoughts on Marquis’ typewriter, leaving them for the journalist to find the next day. At least so the journalist presented them. Like the wonder in fungi, maybe, Mr. Marquis found wonder in depicting what might be the philosophical thoughts and observations of a cockroach. Makes you look at ordinary things with new appreciation.
Thanks for the followup Julie. Don Marquis seems like a fascinating fellow!