Observations for your fungi notebook

CC image by Jomo

This is a Woolly milkcap, a specimen of which was brought in by Student G last week. Its scientific name is Lactarius torminosus. The 'lact' you may recognise from 'lactose' in milk: milk, because if you damage the gills they leak a white liquid. Look at all those fluffy fibres around the edge of the cap -  they're rather distinctive.

You'll need ways to describe all the strange features of your fungi - that means learning a few new words. There are some excellent pages in my Marcel Bon guide which show all the different shapes and textures of cap, gill, stipe, etc. and what the terminology is for them. I can email you a scan (in the spirit of increased mycological awareness, and not to deliberately deny M. Bon any money, since the book is long out of print). I have also made a useful list of notes and measurements you might want to take for your notebook, which I will turn into a little handout when I get a moment.

Today I was talking to mushroom-mad final year student P, who reminded me about the Danish website MycoKey. Looking today I see there's a free download of part of their new duo of books, the 'identification wheels' from The Fungi of Temperate Europe. They're super up to date taxonomically, include everything you could ever think of (and more), and have lovely photos that might help you get your mystery mushroom to the right group. (The books themselves are £95 so maybe something to aspire to). I recommend a look.

A strange inhabitant of the woods

This week, there was a little excursion to do some surveying in the local woods. You may have been there, and if so, you may have been delighted by these crazy, alien-looking objects:

In the centre of each one is a soft papery globe. When they were given a poke, a little cloud of spores puffed through the single pore.  So you might think 'well, it must be a puffball', but that's not quite true. This is an Earthstar and it's in the Geastraceae family, whereas Common puffballs (the sort kids like to kick on school playing fields) and Giant puffballs (that can actually be as big as footballs) are in a different family, the Lycoperdaceae.*

[Etymology corner: Ge-astra literally means 'earth - star' (think ge-ology and astr-onomy). But do you know what Lycoperdon means? It means wolf fart. Perhaps this shines a light into the mindset of mycologists, I don't know].

Eighteen species of Earthstar have allegedly been recorded in this country (though my books seem to have about half a dozen of the most common). I think our one above is the Collared earthstar (Geastrum triplex) and is distinctive with its inner saucer-like collar. Around the collar are extremely fleshy-feeling rays, where the fruiting body has split as it's opened. The picture above right shows the rays bending right back underneath (quite weirdly, like little tentacles or claws or something).

Bernard Spragg's image of Astraeus hygrometricus.

Here's another species you could find - you'll note it hasn't got the extra collar. Its common name is the 'Poor man's weather glass' because it spreads its rays out in damp weather, but folds them back in when it's dry.

People collected some specimens, so I'm putting those in the freeze drier later. I feel quite hopeful that they'll come out well.

*I've just found out that through DNA analysis, puffballs have now been put into the Agaricaceae. The implication is that they're more closely related to certain 'mushrooms with caps and gills', even though they have much more in common structurally with the non-gilled Gastromycetes like Earthstars. This is hurting my brain a bit. Taxonomists are always doing this - I suppose it's a good thing, as the new arrangements should increasingly reflect the true underlying relationships. But it does make it difficult to keep up! I will look for the best current source for your labels.

Regardless, all this taxonomic juggling can't take away from the simple pleasures of stumbling across crazy-looking fungi. Long may this continue.

Some vaguely mushroom-shaped willow sculptures by Tom Hare (cc image Leonora Enking)

Elf cups and other unmushroomy fungi

Emma and I took a walk in the local woods this week, to check out which plants are braving February (there's a class on Monday that will be doing some surveying of them and I wanted to make a guide). There were quite a few species, but none were venturing any flowers yet.

However, a very bright object did catch our eyes - and it wasn't a bit of litter, either. It was the amazing and strange Scarlet elf cup (Sarcoscypha coccinea).

Above is the lone specimen we found, but if you're lucky you'll see lots together. They grow on dead wood. I think something so peculiar-looking should definitely be associated with otherworldly creatures like elves. Their scientific name also alludes to their weirdness: 'sarco' is 'flesh' and 'scypha' means 'cup'. (Coccinea will remind you of the squashed beetle colouring cochineal, and it means 'scarlet'.)

CC image by Ceridwen

You'll notice there isn't a mushroomy gill in sight - so where do their spores come from? Mushroomy-mushrooms use little sticking out structures on their gills called basidia. But most fungi are actually like the lovely Elf cups - they're called 'Ascomycetes' and they produce spores in flask-shape cells called asci. There's a nice understandable page about all this on the Australian National Botanic Gardens website.

The beautifully red upper layer of Elf cups is packed with these vertically arranged asci*, and when the spores are ready they are fired off into the air. I even read that this makes a noise, which sounds a bit mad. (Although, if an elf cup releases spores into a wood and no-one's there, does it make a sound? Etc.) Apparently if you pick the right moment you can blow on their surface and see a puff of spores float away.

So if you've chosen fungi, this is a reminder that you want to include both Ascomycetes and Basidiomycetes in your collection.  And that although mushroomy basidiomycetes might be laying relatively low at this time of year, you might still find some ascomycetes. King Alfred's cakes (Daldinia concentrica) are another easily found example.

(*You can also see asci in lichens - because lichens, of course, are part fungus. It's possible to cut a very thin slice and examine them under the microscope. Counting the number of spores per ascus can help sometimes with identification.)

Mushroom season is definitely here.

Such a strange colour: surely Chlorociboria. You can read about it on Tom Volk's pages.  It stains the wood green - this was used for designs in 17th century inlaid boxes (Tunbridge Ware).

I went for a nice walk with my sister in Lower Woods this weekend. It's a lovely ancient woodland owned by the Gloucestershire Wildlife Trust. You'll probably get a trip out there on your course at some point. We were idiotically intending to go to Westonbirt (the national tree zoo nearby) but I freaked out at the vast numbers of people flocking towards it (very slowly, the jams went back miles). It was like trying to get into some massive festival. No-one much was at Lower Woods though. I felt calm again.

I don't know what these lovely peachy furry brackets are yet.

I thought you might like to see a few of the things we saw. We stuck to the paths and were only looking at Things On Logs so I imagine there'd be many more traditionally mushroom-shaped species about. But we mostly saw the freaky things on decaying wood.

Maybe Ascocoryne sarcoides. (Some convincing likenesses at First Nature.)

So if you find anything interesting, please do bring it in to be frozen, and I will pop it in the queue for the freeze drier. I've already done some mushrooms for several students and it seems to be working well.

Dave found some Hedgehog fungi on a walk at the weekend. Imagine the excitement. They have spines instead of gills. Whatever next.

Hypnum repandum, Hedgehog fungus. Image D J Kelly.

And speaking of strange things,  I also found this, which turns out to be not a fungus at all, but a slime mould, namely Lycogala epidendrum. It was squishy to the touch. I do have a habit of investigating the relatively squishiness of all the peculiar mushroomy things I find. It's helpful with identification (and if you get unsuspecting accompanying friends to try too, you get a range of squealing noises).

These are very strange things. There are some more species on the First Nature website. Apparently some can solve mazes. I'm not kidding. Read more at the UBC Botanical Garden.

I'm supposed to be packing the field trip. But all this is a rabbit hole of interesting and distracting weirdness.

A quick fungi link: you can read all about Kew Gardens' "Fungarium" here.

30.10 Another mushroom update: I can't help myself so have bought a new book. It's by Peter Marren.  Its beautifully designed cover didn't help stop the money flying out of my account. It's supposed to be very engagingly written, and I hope it will fill me with interesting information to trot out to fellow mushroom hunters on field trips. I also read a very interesting article by him on A New Nature Blog in which he refutes the Forestry Commission's idea that picking fungi is Bad (for the fungi, that is).

Old and new technology

Something I made in enamel. Perhaps it shows some biological / technological crossover?

Once upon a time, not so long ago, I was an Art Student. Now you may know some and think theirs is an easy life, all that getting out of bed late and splashing paint about. But actually it's fraught with existential angst. Not only do you have to produce some work which is held up to some seemingly unknowable criteria of worthiness but you also have to examine the reasons why you're doing it. Such constant self-examination is not required from Science Students. I frequently found myself tied up in a paralysed knot, which now seems ridiculous. By the end, my recurring trains of thought had sort of coalesced into something about how we all use a lot of technology today but understand virtually nothing about how it really works. That we use it but we couldn't repair it and we've willingly let ourselves become sort of powerless and helpless (although someone tapping away on their new i-phone may not agree).

They do pay me for some sort of technical proficiency, and I like to know how things work and get very frustrated when modern technology works against me. You may call it control freakery. But everyone needs a bit of control in their life. It's stressful not to have any. Some people achieve this by keeping everything neat and tidy (visitors to my desk will see that's not my approach). But for me, part of the control is Knowing Things.

And so, finally, I reach my taxonomic-collection-related point. I like knowing what trees and plants and animals I'm looking at when I'm out and about in the world. I like to know the features that define them as different species and I like to know the cultural connections they sometimes have. For example, above are some little rolls of birch bark.

Would you believe it, but they're ten thousand years old - somebody in the British Mesolithic rolled them up and forgot about them. Birch is full of resins that make it a great firelighter so it's very likely these objects were precisely that. It's also possible that the resin was destined to be melted and used as a glue to stick tiny flint blades into arrowheads or something similar. But I just find it reassuring that come the technological apocalypse (subject of a hundred films) knowing birch has these properties could help me brew up a soothing cup of tea.

In the same case at the British Museum I saw this, a bracket fungus:

Likewise, it comes from the Mesolithic site at Star Carr in North Yorkshire, and likewise it's a species which is excellent for starting a fire. You use the layer above the pores, which can be fluffed up into a material that will take a tiny spark - the material seems to be known as amadou and Paul Kirtley explains here how to prepare it. You may have heard of Ötzi; he lived in the Alps about 5,300 years ago and his body became preserved in a glacier. He had some prepared amadou amongst his belongings.

So, this sort of thing - whilst rather peripheral to what you've been asked to do for the assignment - might lend an added layer of interest to your researches, and who knows, might enable you to survive in the event of global meltdown. I'm kidding, everything's going to be fine. But just in case. And perhaps if you do have any existential angst it can help to anchor you to reality.

CC Jason Hollinger; CC Martin Cooper; CC Doug Bowman; CC Jason Hollinger. 

While on the subject of bracket fungi, another repeating pattern in my career as Art Student was repeating patterns. This morning, looking at Student K's bracket fungi under the microscope, I was drawn to the different shapes of the pores in the different species. They're so tiny that they're really not obvious until they're magnified. And they can be diagnostic of the species you're trying to identify. So do feel free to bring your fungi in to examine microscopically (you can then put them in the freezer for the freeze-drier) - or you could also consider getting your own hand lens.

Your new skills can help make a difference

A lot of moths visiting a trap in Brunei, 1982. CC image Accassidy.

The other afternoon I was listening to Inside Science on Radio 4, and they had a piece about 'moth snowstorms'. That is, people were remembering when they would drive along in the countryside at night, and moths would be flying in from all angles into their headlights, and they'd have to start their windscreen wipers. It's certainly not something I've experienced in my lifetime. In fact it seems quite a mad idea, even though it must have been unremarkable not so long ago. Something that did ring a bell was motorcyclists saying they used to have to stop regularly and clean their visors of squashed flies. I can remember (in the 90s) saying to my dad that my friend's car was covered in gummy dead insects, and him complaining that it must have meant we were driving too fast. Some people suggest cars might be more aerodynamic these days, which might account for why gummy insects don't seem to be a problem. But that doesn't explain the visor thing - there'd still be insects on visors.

My point is, we seem to be losing insects, fast. Data from amateur entomologists' malaise traps suggest a loss of 75% in the last 25 years. I don't need to tell you that sounds pretty terrifying, when insects are a fundamental part of the food chain and pollinate a lot of plants (including our food plants). It was astoundingly refreshing to hear that the alleged environment minster, Michael Gove, has actually come round to the idea that neonicotinoid pesticides need stricter controls. One can only hope it's not shutting the door after the horse has bolted. You'd imagine spraying pesticides all over fields can't have helped matters, in addition to problems caused by other modern farming methods. So perhaps stopping spraying them might help restore some of the invertebrate populations.

A malaise trap. CC image Ceuthophilus. Nothing to do with uneasy-feeling malaise (though that may be for the insects), but actually invented by the Swedish Mr. Malaise in the 1930s.

Whilst this sounds like environmental doom and gloom (which yes, it probably is) - you have chosen this degree course so presumably want to try to make the world a better place. You can be part of the antidote to your own gloom. By developing your identification skills and submitting records to recording schemes and records centres, you can help make some difference. Your data can feed into a big picture which can persuade the powers that be to actually do something. This might not be a straightforward process because it involves politics. But having the scientific evidence has to be of critical importance, surely.

You might think "ah, what difference can I make? :( " But there really aren't that many people out there who have good identification skills. Particularly if you focus on something even slightly obscure. If you chose to go to a local habitat and record what you find, it's possible that nobody would have done that for ten, twenty years (or even ever). You might find something Really Interesting, and conceivably that could help get the site a modicum of protection one day. And even if you don't, it all becomes part of valuable data about today, and can be compared with what happens in future, and if records exist, with what was present in the past. (iRecord is an easy way to submit a record of anything you find, but if you prefer the support of a specialist scheme, the Biological Records Centre has a comprehensive list of contacts.)

Student A's lovely lichen find. CC image Jason Hollinger (California)

The other day, one of the third years popped in to see me. She chose lichens for her collection last year and got really into them. She'd been out lichen-hunting recently. When she got home and looked in her 'Dobson' guide, one of them seemed to be something unusual. The only species that seemed to match was a distinctive orange-grey lichen with little eyelashy spines around the fruiting bodies. But Dobson said it had only been seen in very few areas and was now thought extinct in this country. She had a tiny sample and we both squinted at it down the microscope. Nothing else seemed to match. I said I thought she should speak to David Hill, my esteemed lichen tutor from my course.

It turns out she was right with her identification and he was "super excited". Isn't that amazing! So this is proof that you too can find and report something excellent. She's brought something back from apparent extinction. I guess the poor lichen was never quite extinct in the first place (though it's evidently very rare) - but the point is, how many people are looking at lichens, and how many people have the skill to identify them? Not many. So your developing skills can make an impact. You can be one of an elite group that is knowledgeable and enthusiastic about lichens, beetles, mosses, or whatever it is that grabs you. We can only conserve things when we know they exist. You will be able to contribute to the body of knowledge of what's out there. Be encouraged.

There are links to over 200 recording schemes at the NBN Gateway.

For your Christmas list*: a hand lens

(*Other popular religious and secular present-buying opportunities are available. Or just treat yourself.)

I've just been to Dartmoor with the new first years. Likely you went on this trip yourself and will be able to recall the amazing Wistman's Wood, an eldritch botanical wonderland dripping with lichens and mosses. I think it's one of my favourite places.

CC image by Alex Jane

Students are obliged to spend some time collecting data about un-botanical things like wind speed. But whenever possible I tried to lure them towards close examination of the weird and diverse species covering the trees and boulders. A few people looked like they got seriously hooked, which was very gratifying. And I think the secret to an appreciation of lichens and bryophytes is a simple thing: a hand lens.

I wish I could present one to everybody but it seems university bean-counters are not keen. I can always lend you one (quality and smeariness varies). But ultimately I would urge you to consider getting one yourself. It doesn't have to cost much and it will last you a lifetime. Plus you will always have it to hand if it just lives in your bag. And you won't have any slight squeamishness about holding it right up to your eye after a dozen other people have had it in their clammy hands. Seriously, it will open up a entire microscopic world that you cannot really predict. I'd say it makes Everything more interesting - the unsuspected detail of plants and invertebrates and all sorts. But in the short term it'll certainly make your collecting a more interesting experience and make it easier to identify what you're looking at.

Like I say a million times, 'Hold it right up to your eye'. CC image from the National Park Service.

But what to get? Magnification of x10 is fine for most things. You can get twin versions which have (say) a x10 at one end and a x15 at the other if you're feeling fancy. Another thing to consider is the diameter. My lens is about 15mm across. Larger diameters are recommended.  I thought I was quite happy with mine but now I'm starting to wonder if a larger diameter wouldn't be better - it transmits more light and makes things easier to see.

You do want something that's of good enough quality that it's not going to annoy you with its blurry pointlessness. You don't necessarily have to spend huge amounts though.

This Quicktest page shows you how different lenses vary in quality (which is quite eye-opening) and therefore in price. They have a large range for sale and they make it very clear what you're getting. There are also many other reliable places, like the local company Brunel Microscopes, or UKGE, or entomological suppliers like Watkins and Doncaster,

 This is the one I have at the moment, from Quicktest, which is about £30 with delivery. It has a slightly larger size than most, so lets in a bit more light, and seems super clear - I'm really pleased with it. But you don't have to go that mad - something about £15 can be pretty decent, judging by the advice linked to above. Cheaper ones are a good way in but they're necessarily blurrier and more likely to fall apart. I bought a load of half-decent ones for work last year, but they're extremely pocketable and disappear constantly. This is disappointing and makes me loathe to spend as much again - but then spending less is a false economy if the lenses are rubbish. So if you're even half keen it's a good reason to get your own and look after it - it should last a lifetime if you don't lose it!

I'd also recommend getting a lovely bright lanyard to attach to it. Then it's much easier to find if you put it down somewhere or it falls into the vegetation. There's a huge selection on Ebay, for example. If you wear your lens round your neck you will recognise and be recognised by other natural history buffs, like some sort of weird masonic tie / handshake. This is not necessarily a bad thing: you might meet someone knowledgeable and interesting. Nerdy, probably. But nerdy about something interesting.

Public domain image by Bill Gillette - girl on a fieldtrip in the Rockies, 1972

A useful thought I read recently - when you're using it, think of it as a keyhole. That is, you must put your eye right up to it to see through. Either bring the object you're looking at towards your eye, or (often more undignified but unavoidable) bring yourself close to the object. The latter is why you might see lichen enthusiasts sprawled across the landscape, bums in air, apparently pressing their faces against the rocks.

And finally, it's possible to integrate this low-tech highly-useful bit of equipment with modern technology: with a bit of practice you can take photos through it with your mobile phone. And those would be perfect stuck in your notebook.

(P.s. - What's more, a lens will repay you handsomely on the field trip to Tenerife, where there are many fascinating plants with strange adaptations to examine microscopically. I much recommend getting one in readiness for that).

Autumnal fungi finds

I've just come back from the field trip to Dartmoor. There were many mushrooms. While the students were slaving over their quadrats on Hay Tor in horizontal drizzle, I interrupted proceedings to show them some of the strange fungi growing there. The most marvellous was a Parrot wax-cap (Hygrocybe psittacina):

CC image by Gljivarsko Drustovo Nis (photostream has many amazing fungi photos)

It was very like the one in the photo, with a stipe changing from orange to green, a green and very slimy cap, and superbly contrasting yellow gills.

Wax caps like grassland that hasn't been (so-called) "improved" - they prefer ancient pasture that hasn't been artificially fertilised or ploughed up. You can download Plantlife's wax cap / grassland fungi guide , and this has a scoring system for the different species. You might like to use this system on a grassland that you visit, and report in your field notebook. The higher the score, the more conservation value of the habitat.

Also whilst noodling about on the internet in search of fungi-related things, I found this Danish website: Mycokey MMI. It's a rather fun way of trying to identify your mushroom - I particularly liked the way you can choose the colours and the gill shapes that match. I don't know how closely our fungal flora matches Denmark's. And I don't know how well it would respond to half-eaten slightly sad specimens. But it could be worth a go, it might certainly get you to the right family so you can pick up a British book and have a look in there.

CC image by Andrea Westmoreland

Another species someone brought in for freeze drying today was a Bird's nest fungus (Cyathus sp.) which are hilarious little groups of shaggy cups with "eggs" in. The eggs are spore-containing structures called 'peridioles'. I liked them a lot. When rain hits the cups, the peridioles ping out and stick to neighbouring Things. Then gradually they release their spores. The reproductive cycle is actually a bit more complicated than that (as these things often are), if you're interested.

P.S. I have now scanned the dichotomous keys in my Marcel Bon mushrooms book, so if you'd like a pdf of them do ask (in a strictly sharing-something-out-of-print-for-mycological-enlightenment way, not a blatant ripping-off-of-copyright way, of course). You will remember that showing your abilities with a dichotomous key is one way to pick up marks, and most fungi books don't have such a thing.

2016/17 collections: fungi

I thought it might be useful to review some of the best collections that were handed in this Spring, so you can gain inspiration from them. Although they might be a of different taxonomic group than you choose, there are plenty of tips that apply pretty generally.

A couple of the fungi collectors did extremely well, getting marks in the high 70s.

The person who marked these was very impressed with the quality of the specimens. I would suggest this means that they're not damaged (eg. by nibbling) and were at their peak of loveliness when collected, with all the useful features for identification (like the gills) being mature but not over-mature and decaying. It also implies that they were preserved properly (carefully air-dried or put in the freeze drier) and aren't deteriorating in their case.

The marker commented on the good way in which they were attached inside the cases so they could be accessed and examined. Both are in deep cases with hinged lids that can be opened. The large fungi are pinned directly to the board inside and can be easily removed. The smaller fungi in the collection in the top photo have been glued to neat cardboard backings to support them, and these are in turn pinned and so can be removed.

The collection in the lower photo was praised because the labels include the substrate on which the fungi were found - this is often a very useful clue to correct identification. In fact the good detail on the labels was noted (along with a couple of spelling mistakes!).

The upper collection included more specimens than the lower one, but some were incorrectly identified - the comments about the field diaries suggests that the markers expect to see you finding and documenting more examples than you can identify confidently, and that you won't submit all the specimens you find. So although one contained over ten more specimens than the other, they did get similar marks - it's quality, not just quantity.

Both students included specimens from the Ascomycota and Basidiomycota, but the marker noted that in one collection 'only 2 were Ascomycota, rest Basidiomycota' as though a better split might have been preferable.

Finally, both monographs were praised for drawing on the specimens in the collections to illustrate their points. And the field diaries also got good marks (for good detail, drawings and in situ photos) but suspicions were raised over how much had been completed actually in the field. This is something that's repeated so many times that I know it'll help your mark if you get into the habit of scribbling stuff down when you're out collecting.

It made me smile to read on one of the mark sheets the rarely uttered line "I particularly liked the Schizophyllum commune." You will know if you are turning into a fungi nerd if you take a look at this species and find yourself agreeing. I certainly loved this strange and weird specimen when the student brought it in for freeze-drying.

Winter fungi

I'm sorry I've been rather neglecting this blog. I've been distracting myself creating a new blog about the plants you saw in Tenerife (a work in progress). Plus, the weather has not really been conducive to wandering in the countryside. But last week I was compelled to go outside to take photos to make a lichen guide for a class. And while on the survey itself, student T and I spotted a lovely mushroomy specimen growing on a dead tree. It was something like this:

CC image by Aaron Sherman

It rather caught my eye because it's growing in an asymmetrical brackety way, but unlike most fungi like that you might expect to see in winter, it's got gills, not pores.

I think it was an oyster mushroom, in the genus Pleurotus. In fact it may well be the culinarily acclaimed Pleurotus ostreatus, like the one above, which is happy growing on dead wood, and fairly common.

So this has restored my faith that there are still fungi to be collected, although winter may not be the most productive season for the mycologist. It's worth looking at this page in The Mushroom Diary website, where John Harris gives a list of wintery mushrooms to seek out. He's got a couple I mentioned in my own post last year, but also a number of others. Who could resist looking for a 'scurfy twiglet'?

The Birmingham and Black Country Wildlife Trust also has a list of winter fungi (a different list).

So there's still time. Get out there and don't forget to look up as well as down, and try to visit different types of woods and habitats. Remember it's best to identify your specimens as soon as you can, and then bring them in so they can be freeze dried (if that's appropriate - some wintery things like cramp balls and polypores will dry happily at home).

P.S. I am proud to say that my overall mark for my MSc Biological Recording arrived over the holidays, and I got a Distinction. I trust this will fill you with some confidence if you come to me for help. So long as you don't ask me about fishing.

A reminder about fungi

Whilst out on my botanical jaunt, I also came across a few mushrooms. They were on a rough patch of grass which had somehow escaped being mown to oblivion. They had also escaped the Mushroom Kickers, probably because they were small and relatively invisible. Yes, the world can be divided into two groups of people, the Mushroom Pickers and the Mushroom Kickers. I don't really understand the mentality of the latter. Perhaps they go round kicking kittens as well.

These were the ones I found:

To be honest they are not the easiest to identify. In fact they are often collectively known as LBMs (Little Brown Mushrooms) and sometimes you have to admit defeat. But this belies their niceness. In fact you can see that they're actually all quite different. It's all about looking carefully at their shape and colour - the shape of the cap, the shape of the gills, the wavyness or sturdiness of the stipe (the mushroom 'stem'). This still doesn't make them Easy. But it might enable you to get to the right family.

Their habitat is also a useful clue. These were all amongst shortish grass - that in itself discounts many of the similar species you see in the identification books. In fact I think there's a definite gap in the market for a beginners' book with common species arranged by habitat. I have one that's almost there, but it's obsessed with edible mushrooms and gives delicate inedibles short shrift.

The most important thing I want to impart is that it's important to try and identify them as soon as possible. So you don't need to take home too many at a time - just a few is good. Then when you've had a go at identifying them (including writing all their features down in your field notebook so you remember them if you give up in desperation) - please bring them in to me and put them in the freezer in the field centre. Then I will freeze dry them for you and they will be reasonably beautifully preserved. If you can't get into college straight away then the fridge will do temporarily (in a plastic box, preferably, but don't get them mixed up with your lunch. That would be a shame as some of them are poisonous).

Fungi season is upon us so get out there into the woods and meadows and have a search.

The lovely Amanita muscaria. We found lots of these at Colehayes a few weeks ago. CC image by taras-fedora-syn

I've found a good website about UK fungi = First Nature.
It's not so easy flicking through a website as it is a book. But there's so much effort been put into writing about each species here, and there are good photos (of the whole fungus / gills or pores, and spores). It won't have everything but it's definitely somewhere to look when you've a hunch about your specimen's identity. It's made me wonder whether I've got Conocybe tenera amongst my finds.

Remember that with fungi, where you find them and how they're growing are important clues to identification. You can note their 'habit of growth' (that is, are they growing singly or in troops - (troops, excellent description), in tufts or overlapping, or in fairy rings) and whether they have any 'relationship with higher plants' (mycorrhizal species can only develop in conjunction with one or a few species of trees). All grist for your field notebook.

Identification of waxcaps

Hygrocybe coccinea

If I had to pick my favourite group of mushrooms (it's not a decision that comes up often, I know) - then it would be the lovely Waxcaps (the Hygrocybes). They're usually brightly coloured, they have a strange texture, and they've beautifully wide-spaced gills. And not only do they have this rather other-worldly look, some species are ecological indicators of long-undisturbed habitats, and are being recognised as useful highlighters of natural spots worth conserving. So note where you find them.

There are plenty of resources on the internet to help you with identification (it seems waxcaps have many fans):

The UKEconet project has an extensive guide, which includes photos of other grassland species.
The Somerset Environmental Records Centre has a key to Somerset species which might be useful.
And Aberystwyth University has a whole 'waxcap website', which includes an online key (sadly with no pictures).

Winter fungi

Autumn is of course the happiest hunting time for the mycologist. But if you want to make your collection on fungi, all is not yet lost. There are various species still out there, and they're often easier to preserve, because they're not the soft-fleshed mushroom-style fruiting bodies.

You have to raise your eyes up from the ground and start looking on tree trunks, stumps, longs and twigs.

You might see the Horse's Hoof fungus, Fomes fomentarius. You don't have to use too much imagination to see the derivation of its common name?

CC image by George Chervilensky.

Ötzi, the man who was inadvertently preserved in the ice of the Alps between Austria and Italy for 5000 years, was carrying some of this fungus. He very likely used it as tinder (you can read about this on Paul Kirtly's blog and prepare your own).

Another species you might find is Piptoporus betulinus, the birch polypore. You'll want to find a silver birch tree first though of course.

CC image by Captainpixel.

This also has a traditional use - stropping razors. Here's a clip of Ray Mears sharpening his knife on a prepared piece of the fungus. Accompanied by jolly Irish music I'm afraid.

Another species that will be useful come the impending apocalypse will be Daldinia concentrica, commonly known as crampballs, or King Alfred's cakes (as you may recall, he burnt them).

CC image by Walter Baxter.

They always look like sheep droppings to me when whole. But inside they have an interesting concentric structure.

CC image by Stu's images.

If you light this it'll burn slowly and you can therefore (as I say, following the apocalypse) carry your fire easily from one camp to another. Just to warn you, they burn quietly, and I've burnt my fingers on one thinking it was insufficiently lit. Here's someone lighting one on youtube. If you blow on a lit one the concentric rings light up most elegantly (you'll have to try it).

Finally, you might fancy something a bit more edible. Auricularia auricula-judae is also very common. You are likely to find it on elder bushes (where you find one, there will probably be lots). Its common name, Jew's Ear came from the story of Judas being hanged on an Elder tree. These days you'll probably see it called 'Jelly Ear', and when it's been raining, it's certainly very jelly-like. And very ear-like. Even to the point of being a bit freaky. The small ones certainly look like little mouse ears - they're rather clammy and slightly furry.

CC image by Svdmolen.

If you check out the ingredients of Batchelor's Woodland Mushroom Cup-a-soup, there it is providing the mushroomyness. It certainly dehydrates and rehydrates very well. If you see it in dry weather it will be much smaller and much crispier.

Mushroom season is upon us

A keen fungi forager brought some mushrooms in to be freeze dried this morning. Naturally, being British, the weather featured in our conversation. But in this case it wasn't small talk, it was a recognition that hideously dark and wet autumn weather is the Harbinger of Mushrooms. Now is the time to be seeking them.

Waxcaps CC image by Andreas Kunze

Inspired by his lovely collection of Hygrocybe (waxcaps) I sought some information on the internet, and I found a website you may find useful - The Mushroom Diary.

It's written by John Harris and features fungi from this country. The website zooms about a bit in a rather annoying way (perhaps I'm just oldfashioned) but the photos are good, there's usually some useful description and id tips, and as it's a blog you can tell when he found what. It's quite nice to browse through (in the hope that the species will spark some recognition when you see them in the flesh).


I also like his general identification guide which highlights the features you need to scrutinise your mushroom for.

General thoughts on collecting

Finnish entomologist Johan Sahlberg and his botanist wife Mimmi, just before they left on their honeymoon field-trip in 1873. Photograph by Antero Saalas.

 The Legal bit: Technically, you should only collect where you've been given permission by the landowner. Realistically, if you collect a sprig of grass from a roadside, no-one is likely to demand you are thrown in jail. But bear it in mind that under the Wildlife and Countryside Act, it is illegal to uproot any wild plant without permission from the landowner. 'Plant' includes algae, lichens, mosses, fungi and vascular plants. You don't need to uproot anything of course, just take parts of it. If you haven't got permission to be on someone land, you shoud confine yourself to public land and footpaths, or else you could get in trouble for trespassing, and that's before you've picked a thing. It doesn't hurt to be following the Countryside Code in general.

It is quite complicated in law, because there's no single law that covers such things. You do have some rights as a 'forager' which have built up around collecting plants for food. The British Mycological Society have some sensible advice regarding picking fungi but you'll find there's increasing worries about people collecting large amounts of mushrooms and then selling them to fancy restaurants (selling things on is not really in the spirit of traditional foraging).

Also, it is very tempting to want to go to a nature reserve to collect - after all, that's surely where all the nature is? Actually, you'll find you can collect a remarkable number of species from uncontroversial places. If you really do want to collect at a nature reserve, you should ask first. In my experience they may give permission - just contact the relevant Wildlife Trust (etc.) and explain you are doing a taxonomic collection for university and only want a specimen or two of common species. Reassure them that you will not be digging anything up, least of all their rare species. Always take the minimum amount of material necessary wherever you are.  

 There's more advice in the Wildflower Society code of conduct. You might also want to read the Botanical Society of Britain and Ireland's code of conduct. It encouragingly says "Collecting small amounts of plant material for identification purposes, for private herbaria, for research or as voucher specimens is usually acceptable, except in the case of protected or Red List species. Indeed, collecting is often necessary if botanical expertise is to be developed."

 The Amateur Entomologists Society has similar advice concerning invertebrates. Although I feel pangs of guilt killing them, the main threat to species in this country is habitat loss. The code points out that "collecting should always be limited to the minimum necessary for the purpose intended, as well as by full compliance with legal requirements relating to particular sites and species."   

It is rather unlikely you'll come across rare species (the clue being in the name). Surprisingly, very few are specifically protected by law. Obviously, if you're in a reserve where one exists, you should make yourself aware of its appearance and avoid collecting any.

In short, use common sense and all will be well. Stick to public places and no-one will threaten you with a shotgun. Develop a casual demeanour and learn to shrug off the strange looks the public will doubtless throw you. Never be without a plastic bag or collecting pot. The latter is the best bit of advice I can give you :)

 

The Health and Safety bit: 

If you look at the course guidance on Blackboard, you will see that before going out collecting it requires you to send a risk assessment to Katy. This is not so onerous, as there is a generic version on Blackboard - you just need to go through it and remove anything irrelevant to your own situation, and perhaps add in anything extra. 

For example, you can delete any of the chemicals you won't be using for preservation. You've survived this long so presumably you are good at common sense - but here's a recap anyway-

Take someone with you (it's more fun, besides).
 Let someone know where you're going and when you ought to be back (a map and a phone are useful too).
Especially if you're like me, take a snack and something to drink so you don't pass out in a ditch.
Take your medicine with you if you suffer from some life-threatening illness (now I feel like I'm talking to my mother).
Take some sensible clothing and footwear with you (and now I am turning into my mother).

Fill in your details on the form - send a copy to Katy and keep a copy for yourself.
Then you can go forth and start collecting.