When the Land Greets You Back, Part 2. Or, How I Came to Eat My Familiar.

"A late sixteenth-century English illustration of a witch feeding her familiars. The use of the
familiar was something that witches and cunning folk were believed to have in common."
ca. 1579, from, "Cunning folk in Britain" @ Wikimedia Commons

This is a story comprised of equal parts embarrassment, amusement & enlightenment. It might also be a bit tongue-in-cheek. Or not. I have yet to decide.

Still wandering about, greeting the Land, I returned to my most beloved -- above all others -- boreal haunt in the Anchorage area. Peace & Belonging met me at the entrance. 

Once we had marshaled all the gear & accoutrements necessitated by having wee folk in tow, we began our reunion ramble through the park. About 30 feet down the paved central path, there is a 3-way crossroads. Our choices: the equestrian centre to the East, the exercise circuit & playground to the South/SouthWest & the parking/entrance to the North. Unpaved trails traverse & weave their way around all these features. These trails were our ultimate goal, but one must first pause to make a decision at the crossroads. I opted for the easterly arenas & began to turn in that direction when I felt it.

This is a weird thing, this thing that sometimes happens with fungi. I can be ambling about anywhere when my vision, or brain, or both, shift slightly & suddenly become kind of wavy, like heat rising off the road in the dead of Summer. Following this, I find myself turning my attention to a fungus (it happens with slimes too) which I had previously not noticed. Does this sort of thing happen to you?

So, I got the woo-woo sensation, gazed down at the angle where the paths meet & there it is: 

Boletus Edulis. The King Bolete at the crossroads.

A perfect King Bolete… in early July. What the helvella?

When the Land greets you back, more often than not, It catches you unawares. This is the joy of it, is it not?

Later, in the kitchen, prepping & dry sautéing commenced. As per my own tradition, the first found of the "Kingys," as we affectionately call them, must be ceremoniously cooked (naked, alone, unobscured by other foods) & eaten, no, relished, by yours truly (because no one else in this household will do it). 

We sat at the table & I, self-satisfied in my porcini delight, began explaining to Hubby how we found this beastie "at the crossroads in the park." Mid-sentence, I was reminded of the material from this box which I had been digesting for the past few days -- material involving the of meeting familiars at the crossroads. I begin to say, half-jesting, "You know, you're supposed to be able to meet your familiar at the crossroads & here I am… eating my familiar…" With the sense that I just might be experiencing a very perverse epiphany, I screw up my face & consider the bits of fungus between my teeth. Then, it all begins to feel a bit awkward.

Spirit slices.

Hubby responded matter of factly to my ambivalent, canary-eating face with the most astounding statement, "Well, when you work with these things the way I do, you know that was just a gift of your familiar -- a gift of itself, but only part of itself. Your familiar is not gone. As you know, what you found is only the fruiting body. The mycelia, your familiar, is still there at the crossroads…" Then, with a nonchalant wave of the hand, he finished with a casual, "Familiars give all kinds of gifts..." I stared at him, stupefied. What the helvella? Who is this guy? Certainly it was not my vaguely-spiritually-inclined, but mostly-in-it-for-the-parties husband.

In bed, I asked him from whence he pulled all this cleverness & wisdom regarding the mysteries of familiar spirits. He began by expanding further on his ideas about familiar gifts & drawing parallels to various mythologies in a remarkably insightful manner. Again, I was nonplussed. Then, he told me he learned it all in the Kingdom of Loathing. Right. Now I understand why he has spent the last 10 years battling sorority zombies & mixing oxygenarian cocktails in that stick-figure game. Wisdom. Gnosis. The Mysteries. I wonder if they have crossroads in there? 


Well, I really don't have the moxie to be a virtual disco bandit, so I guess I'll have to continue learning my lessons the hard way. I am comfortable with that. It's so much nicer outside, IRL, breathing, wandering, being with the Land & its clever, wondrous & occasionally appetizing denizens. Even if, on occasion, I might find myself outwitted by a mushroom.