Thursday, 14 August 2008

I left the city today for a fungal excursion with my brother and with cousin X, who's visiting against her druthers but in deference to our relentless invitations and who will "post" this when she reaches Vienna by the overnight train on Thursday morning. As I write, however, in the textual present, in the textual present, in the textual present, we are happily at sup on picnic planks here and enjoying our chanterelle and
chicken-of-the-woods fried in butter & dressed with horseradish mayonnaise. Wine, we were just remarking, is slack but excellent. In contrast, butterflies are abundant but redundant: pretty, dull clouds of milky pierids.

1 comment:

Jophet Garmon said...

Do we know what kinds of fungi are presented in this photograph?