You’re walking through the woods on a crisp, late October afternoon, smelling the sharp scent of decaying leaves and listening to the dry rustle of beech leaves in the breeze. You decide to take a break, sit on an old stump, munch an apple and observe this amazing world…but, what is that reaching up...
I had learned about these in the days of yore.
Was doing gardening and found a small specimen growing at the base of my tree.
Apparently they LOVE rotting wood...whelp
There is a willow grows aslant a brook,
That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream.
There with fantastic garlands did she come
Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples
That liberal shepherds give a grosser name,
But our cold maids do dead men's fingers call them
Not all that toxic, though. One mushroom forager website I saw was from a person who said that they used to recommend and enjoy them, but new information about their toxicity came out and they stopped eating them. 🤷♂️