The conditions don’t seem quite right yet when the first morel of the season gets discovered by somebody somewhere in Illinois. It’s early spring. Temperatures at night still might dip into the 20s, or even colder.

Yet over in someone’s forest, beside that sun-heated rock or near a patch of bare soil, the first morel of the season decided it was warm enough to go for it.

The strategic payoff for being the first morel to pop up before all other morels emerge is unknown. Being the first morel has its risks. Nature might yet relapse into late winter and suddenly dump snow everywhere. Or a morel hunter, wandering in the forest a little too early in the season, knowing full well it’s a little too early, might spot the first morel and gasp.

Of course doubters in town will refuse to celebrate the announcement, mocking the impossible news. So the early morel hunter always collects the solitary evidence, even if it’s not big enough to make a meal. Being able to parade that first morel around town is like being the first person to capture a Bigfoot alive.

Doubters have no recourse other than to believe.

                           Reach out.

What’s Up
Wild Mushrooms in Illinois