late last year, we had an arborist come to prune some overgrown tree branches. as i requested, they obligingly dumped a large quantity of the rough mulch onto a section of tarped-over grass next to the driveway. there sat the mound, through rain and light snow and cold weather, for months.
i could only move a little at a time with a garden cultivator before getting winded, so i took breaks and reminded myself that i was - literally - moving a (small) mountain.
a few weeks ago, on earth day, in fact, i was able to retrieve one of the tarps. the ground, as expected, was quite wet and full of delightfully wriggly worms decomposing the grass and other botanical materials, and also this:
i thought at first that it might be a mushroom, but my plant id app told me it was a ghost pipe plant.
i carefully raked mulch back over it, as i did not want to disturb it any more than i already had. i did not mark the spot in any way, so i don't know how to find it again. i hope it continues its perennial life cycle.
some browsing on the internet tells me that i was wise to do so. these plants, while native to this continent, must be able to tap into the network between certain kinds of tree roots and certain kinds of fungus, usually in dark, forested areas. they don't have chlorophyll and do not photosynthesize, but instead they attach to the mycorrhizal network and get their nutrition indirectly from the trees. ghost pipe is notoriously difficult to propagate because of its specialized growing requirements, and it's considered vulnerable.
oh, and it does contain pain-reducing elements that i have no ancestral knowledge about.
apparently they flower and bear fruit for a very short period of time, after which they shrivel up and turn black, hence the alternate name of corpse plant.
i'm very glad i was paying attention when it made its appearance. it reminds me that my natural environment is alive and purposeful.
