For a few days now, a squirrel has been dining grandly in the yard. At first, it looked as if it were holding up a big battle shield. Then I realized it was nibbling at the top of it. Since I am a great believer in composting, I figured perhaps it had dug up a baked potato skin. Wonderful, I thought. Now squirrels are eating potatoes. As if they haven’t buried 1700 lbs of acorns in my various raised beds and lawn.

We had a substantial rainfall over a week ago. Steady, minor flooding here and there, typical for the first decent rain of the season. Almost overnight, the hills began turning green. And bingo, my lawn became a minefield of big mushrooms. Last year, I found a fine specimen, and after consulting with my sources at the California Academy of Sciences, it turned out to be in the bolete family. Big and meaty. I took a few photos and hoped that there would be more in the future.

There is. This one appears to have eaten a grilled eel.

If I go out looking for hawks in the redwood and start walking backward on the grass, I stumble over these giants. Not all seem to be boletes. (And please don’t go eating wild mushrooms unless you or someone standing next to you is an expert at identifying them. It is not a good death.) Some are small clusters, easily knocked over. There was a patch I was watching carefully for its photogenic properties and bright future as a two or three pound clump.

My hopes were dashed today when I looked through the long lens and saw the squirrel trying to drag away one of the lesser stalks, a three-inch one. I am confident that in the next few days, my little friend will return.