When I pulled into the lot at Kickapoo, a hetero couple aged in their 50s, I’m guessing, were finishing up their morel hunting walk in the woods. They found enough for a nice supper addition.

Some two hours later, as I rounded a tight corner on a trail called Nirvana, I found my first morel, though I wasn’t really looking for one. There it was, alongside the trail.

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independent writer

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