Following Faeries Into the Forest

You can never tell how a day in the woods will go until you’re in the forest itself. There have been some mornings when I wake up resolved to go to the woods, and every step of my feet feels destined and easy. Then there are mornings when I feel like I’m slogging through mud to pack my hiking bag, and it takes every ounce of effort to get out the door. Sometimes the easy days lead to magical hikes, and sometimes they don’t. And the same goes for the mud-slog mornings. It’s completely unpredictable. But I can say one thing with certainty: my favorite days are the ones where an easy and effortless morning of preparation leads to an exquisitely magical journey. And that’s what I experienced last Friday.

I started out my morning planning to visit the Denison Bio Reserve, but instinct suddenly told me I should return to Dawes East, the forest trail I only recently found out about and still haven’t explored fully. Mind you, there are still many paths at Denison I still haven’t fully explored, but I’ve learned to trust my gut when it comes to where I go exploring on my days off. I had chosen my outfit in my sleep (I’ve had insomnia lately, and in the half-awake-half-asleep moments in the middle of the night I sometimes ponder random things), and when I put it on, it just felt good and right. I wore my favorite boots, which my friend Brittany Warman dubbed my “mushroom hunting boots” the day I bought them at a thrift store (and they have indeed brought me luck in finding fungi), black leggings, (protection against mosquitos, ticks, chiggers, etc) and my long and flowing khaki linen skirt (which I hiked up while I walked…another benefit of the leggings). I paired these with a floaty short sleeved ivory blouse, my Celtic Fusion Designs double breasted vest with a tree of life embroidered on the back (sadly my hair almost always covers this stunning detail), and a flower crown I made at the end of last winter with dried plant material in my garden. I love this particular flower crown because it’s all in shades of brown and green, and doesn’t steal the limelight from my surroundings in forest photos.

I made my last minute reservation to head over to Dawes Arboretum, and let the friendly woman at the ticket-taking booth know that I was heading over to Dawes East. She made note of it and asked me to let her know when I was safely back. After having been over there to Dawes East twice now, it strikes me as odd that they act like the trails there are so dangerous, and all hikers venturing there must be accounted for. But I’m starting to suspect that this is done in part to detract too many visitors, and protect the magical woodland itself, as well as to protect the people exploring those woods. And if the woods are a way to Faerie, perhaps a hiker or two has been lost to the woods after all. One never knows.

Dawes East (if you aren’t on my newsletter list and were privy to a video from my first day hiking there) has a Hopewell Mound. It’s a sacred site built long long ago (possibly so long ago that the date ends in “B.C.”), and as you wander the forests nearby, you can feel that magic and see why the ancient people wanted to pay homage to the energy. As I parked my car and made sure I had everything with me that I needed, I had a good feeling about how my explorations would go. This feeling was very quickly confirmed when I walked past the bog and on the other side, I immediately saw a tree that boasted the largest shelf mushroom I’ve ever found in person. Peering at it at different angles, crouched on the ground, was like seeing a miniature world. I hadn’t even made my way to Dawes East yet, and I was already finding magical natural marvels!

The process of walking to Dawes East actually feels a bit like a fairy tale journey. You walk past a bog, following signs, and have to go through a tunnel under the road. The tunnel definitely feels like a liminal space, and you feel even more like you’re venturing somewhere “Else” from the rest of the arboretum. On the other side, as you carefully navigate past butterflies who like to sun themselves at the tunnel exit, you’ll see a meadow full of tall grasses and wildflowers. The last time I ventured to Dawes East, I took the lefthand path. This time I knew the Indian Mound was most easily accessible by the right path, so I turned to walk the path Widdershins.

It was a bright and warm August morning, and as I walked along the paths that cut through the wildflower meadows, I admired how the tiny flowers and green growing things had sprung up in the wake of the mowers that had trimmed the walkways. At the edge of the woods, the contrast between the lightness of the meadow and the dark of the forest was so striking, I had to admire a moment. (And take a photo which does it no justice)

As I entered the shadow of the trees, I thought to myself “I wonder how easy or hard it will be to find mushrooms and portals today.” As this thought entered my head, I looked down at the trail, and there were mushrooms literally right in the middle of the path. I took their portrait, and went on my way, glancing at the woods at left and right of me, scanning for anything beautiful.

And then I saw it. There was a circle of bright orange mushrooms in the woods, half hidden by layers of bracken and brush. I gasped out loud and headed off the path through the trees. But halfway to where I had seen the faerie ring, I stopped, unable to find it anymore. I moved forward and back, left and right, dodging seedling trees and vines, but there was no mushroom circle to be found. The faeries had made it disappear.

I know I saw that faerie ring. I was at the very start of my hike, and I slept well the night before, so I wasn’t tired or dreaming. But it was gone. “Are you playing with me?” I asked the woods around me, and thought I felt laughter. I smiled. “That’s ok. It was a good game,” and I made my way back to the path.

Further along the trail I saw a little grove of younger trees where the light was shining through in a very pleasant way, and my instincts told me to try taking some portraits there. Despite falling off the mossy tree a couple of times, I got some photos I was quite happy with.

Back along the trail, I thought to myself how charming those mushrooms I had seen at the start of the path were, and then glanced down at my feet again. There I saw a grouping of what looked like old and shriveled mushrooms. When I looked closer, I realized they were puffballs. Ahh! One of my favorite mushrooms. If you’ve never had a chance to smoosh a puffball, you’re missing out. And it’s not even destructive: you’re helping the fungi to spread spores into the air when you squeeze the wee ball. I spent a few moments squishing the puffballs in delight and taking slow-motion videos of the spores lifting up into the air.

As I walked deeper and deeper into the forest, the trees grew more and more beautiful, with gnarled roots and little pockets and holes for the fey among those roots. I tried to restrain myself, but wound up taking photos of many of them as well. Keeping an eye on the trail at my feet rewarded me with another group of mushrooms right in the middle of the trail, and shortly after, I found a tree with a lovely large faerie door on its side. I tried knocking, but there was no reply.

Two guardians disguised as fallen tree roots stood facing each other across the trail. I had a feeling some pretty strong magic must be nearby.

And sure enough, my mushroom discoveries just kept getting more and more intense. First there was a stunning shelf mushroom in the center of a tree stump, curled around itself with a brown center. My friend Lisa Gill called it a “cauldron mushroom” when she saw it, and I love that description. I’ve definitely never seen anything like it.

Then there was a beautiful ruffled and layered curlicue mushroom about eight inches across.

And then…I found it.

Perhaps my favorite mushroom discovery to date.

Walking along the path, gazing into the woods to either side of me as I always do, I glimpsed a flash of white in the brush, far off the trail to my left. Was it simply a few shelf mushrooms, lovely but not worth walking fifty feet off the trail to see? I peered closer, and my heart fluttered as I thought I saw a thick stem on one of the white mushrooms, hard to tell at such a distance. I ventured off the trail after what might possibly be a second fairy mirage.

I’ve been mushroom hunting in the woods for about three years now. And although I’m still very much an amateur, I’ve found some wonderful and beautiful fairy specimens. But one thing I seem to never be able to find is what I cheekily call “thicc boi” mushrooms…the gorgeous large fungi with ample and thick stems. As I carefully made my way closer to the splotch of white I saw from the trail, my heart lifted more and more, until I was shouting out loud “Oh you beauties! Oh my gods, you beautiful beautiful things!”

Because it was the most gorgeous gorgeous mushroom-covered log I’ve ever seen in my life. The quirky fungi ranged from two inches to about six inches tall, and gracefully arched away from the wood on thick white stumps. I spent quite a while at the stump, photographing and taking video from many angles, and even taking portraits with it. It was as if when I entered the woods, the fey had set up a test for me with the orange-mushroomed fairy ring, and when I ran after it and they made it disappear, yet I still laughed it off and talked to them directly, they started to like me better. Respecting the woods, leaving biodegradable offerings at the locations where I took photographs, and squishing the puffballs to spread the spores perhaps endeared me to them even further. And I rather felt like this was their gift to me as a reward. Goodness knows it made me happy. So so happy.

Having found my greatest magic I knew I’d see on this trip, and with time passing far too quickly as it does in Faerie, I decided to turn back. On my way back on the trail, I looped around to the side path that led past the Hopewell Mound. I stood there for a moment in front of this ancient sacred hill, and silently expressed my gratitude. (I would never dare say thank you out loud to fey)

The walk home had one more little surprise for me. As I slowly made my way back on the dirt path, I happened to notice a movement on the trail ahead of me (I was paying close attention to the walkway as well as the forest, since I’d found such treasures that way already). As I looked closely, I saw the earth itself was moving. I backed away a bit from the crumbling earth, and stood there watching. The trembling dirt moved slowly across the path, and I smiled to myself as I wondered what was underneath. Was it most likely a snake or another burrowing animal? Surely. But on this path, and on this morning, I couldn’t help but imagine it might be a tiny elf or burrowing fae. I grinned to myself and left him to his work, emerging from the woods into the meadow, through the tunnel, and back to my no longer quite as mundane life.