What a fabulous day! I had an extra hour this morning so I put on my showman baseball cap, tucked my jeans into my white socks, and pulled on a long-sleeved shirt. With the morel staff in my hand, I headed into the woods. After 45 minutes and several scratches from the %$#@*!! Japanese honeysuckle, I found myself standing in the middle of the path, listening to the birds and admiring the wildflowers. The sweet scent of the Russian olives (very invasive trees) made my head swim. It was the perfect opportunity to talk to God. I asked Him for help in finding at least one mushroom for my father's 80th birthday. (He loves morels.) Then I realized the time and started back home at a quick pace, eager to get to Middletown to see my grandson.
All of the sudden I noticed a morel! It was just a foot off of the path that I was following. Wow. A slow and deliberate search of the immediate area assured me that there was only one...just like I had asked. The prize is currently soaking in salt water, patiently waiting in my refrigerator. Dad will get his mouth-watering treat on Friday.
I wish you all happy hunting.
shel
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Coach
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Coach. It's a title that means a lot to me. As a child I looked up to my
coaches, especially my father. My asthma was always too bad to be an
athlete. ...
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