Of violet hedgehogs and copper chanterelles

Essay for November

It was, I am told, a banner year for chanterelles, with fruitings so thick and common that even first-time foragers grew bored. It was also a year in which I was frequently on the road, in the air, or playing with fire—more accurately, working with fire, since no one wants to waste propane—and only went hunting for chanterelles once. On that rainy day, …