Written by Lucy Brzoska
After a week of rainy nights, Collserola is damp and misty. The deciduous oaks bring a golden firelight into the sodden chill woods, and the early morning sunlight and mist entwine in flutes. Everywhere you hear the winter ching of chaffinches. Acorns drop, making you look over your shoulder. The leaves drift down, unhurried, finding their niche on the carpet below.
Miniature flowerpots, covered in moss, have sprouted in the crack of a tree stump. They’re Fluted Bird’s Nest Fungi (Cyathus striatus), whose spore-filled “eggs” – or peridioles – are dislodged by raindrops channelled down the inner grooves of the pot.
In the dark undergrowth were clumps of Upright Coral fungi (Ramaria stricta), the colour of dead flesh. Pallid limbs stretch upwards hoisting the spore away from the woodland floor.