Anne puts a phonecall through. Did I know that there are mushrooms on the football pitch behind our house? But they are on the wrong side of the fence. Later that morning I take a walk and sure enough, unmistakable white discs nestling in the grass. On the wrong side of the fence.
By various means too convoluted to explain, but resulting from something fortuitous that I witness whilst out on my walk, Anne and I are able to gain access to the right side of the fence early the next morning. We gather field mushrooms; fungi are probably one of the easiest and most satisfying of wild foods to harvest. My basket-full will do mushrooms on toast for lunch, a clam and mushroom risotto for supper, with loads left over to add to the game pie which is on the menu for the next day. And more besides. Perhaps Anne and I should leave it a couple of days before we sneak in to collect more…..