Day 329: I think I have the commercial pickers outfoxed. Most of my favourite 'shroom spots have fallen prey to money-minded gluttons who don't care about the integrity of the resource. They never leave a button, don't care if they demolish the delicate mycelium by pulling rather than cutting because their buyers pay by the pound. Some people will argue that pulling doesn't matter, but I have seen long-standing chanterelle patches decimated by the practice, never to recover from over-harvesting.
This afternoon, I only picked enough for an appetizer, admittedly a sizeable serving, but definitely short of a full dinner. I told myself I didn't need a hog-bait, so I only picked the cleanest specimens and left plenty more behind. In fact, today's basket of gold came from a second new location, discovered once again by following a botanical clue. The commercial pickers are already out. I've seen them parked alongside the road near what used to be some of my best mushrooming spots. Sooner or later, they'll pick themselves out of a job, but for now, I know where Midas' hoard of gold is stashed, and I'm treating it with respect.
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