Nature dances to her own music, and if you want to be a good partner, you must bend to her will. She always leads. You always follow.
Where this comes into play, dramatically, is in the variability of harvest of the wild things we love to eat.
A great many factors affect whether a wild food will be abundant or not in any given year — and remember this applies to fish and game as well as plants and mushrooms. Sometimes it’s as simple as a soaking-wet spring stunting pollination or chilling grouse chicks to death. Other times things are less obvious, or are downright random.
I’ll never forget the day in 2016 when I went to “my” wild plum tree near Folsom, California, only to stand in stunned horror to see that it had been struck by lightning. This tree had borne yellow plums of surpassing sweetness, in such numbers that I’d made plum wine with the fruit more than once.
That one tree had been a linchpin of my foraging year. Gone. Oh well. Life continues.
Last weekend, my friend Chris and I went to “our” spot near Stillwater, Minnesota — I am using quotes around “our” and “my” because these places are on public ground — excited and eager, since last year we’d had a good harvest of chokecherries, and an epic harvest of wild American hazelnuts.
I’d heard rumblings about the hazelnut harvest sucking this year; my friend Sam Thayer says it was the wet spring that wrought havoc with pollination. Still, I was hopeful. This spot has hazel bushes in open fields, where they would dry after a rain quickly, and be far enough from the forest to deter squirrels, at least a little.
We went right to the first bush. It has a wasp nest in it this year, so we approached carefully. I saw no nuts. Not good. Then, for the next couple hours, Chris and I checked every bush in this giant field. I gathered maybe 2 pounds of nuts, including the husk, which will be about 65 percent of the weight. So yeah, several hours’ work for less than a pound, maybe less than a half pound, of in-shell hazelnuts isn’t very good.
Chokecherries are crapping out, too. Might be the spring rains, same as with the hazels, but I love chokecherry jelly and won’t get to make it this year. Wah.
I was starting to get frustrated when I heard Chris shout from a hundred yards away, “Blackberries!”
Oooh, really? I’d been meaning to stock up on blackberries, but hadn’t found a spot worth picking — Minnesota blackberries are much smaller than the invasive Himalayan blackberry that lives in Sacramento and the rest of the West Coast — so you need a good spot to make it worth the tedious effort (and thorns) of pulling berries off a blackberry bush.
“I think the catch of the day is blackberries,” Chris said.
There it is. Our disappointing hazelnut day turned into a banner blackberry day. We each picked at least two pounds, and stopped only because the light was fading, my plastic bag was ripping, and we both really wanted a beer.
What’s more, at least half the blackberries on those canes weren’t ripe yet, so I’ll be able to return at least once or twice more, should I need to.
It’s like this everywhere, really. In the mushroom world, last fall was the biggest porcini flush in anyone’s memory. This summer has been epic for chanterelles. I’ve found them every trip I’ve made since June. What mushroom may be scarce this year remains to be seen. Maybe none, because it’s been so wet.
Step back for a moment.
The mental flexibility to accept, even enjoy, curveballs and outcomes you maybe weren’t expecting, or weren’t what you had in mind going into something, is vital to happiness, if not survival.
In the collection of wild foods, Nature’s dance requires that flexibility. If one thing is scarce, chances are another is booming. Bend, don’t break, gather what she gives you with joy, because next year’s dance will be different. It always is.
And in life, finding happiness and peace with the cards you’ve been dealt is a gift. Be grateful for the blackberries in your life, because the hazelnuts will return. Next year will be different. So will the next. Ease and flow. Always forward.
Hank, I live in Dakota County and i’ve been hearing everywhere What a great year for Chanterelles it is, yet I have yet to find any. Any tips? I’m pretty new to foraging.
Way to preach the truth, Hank! So funny how these bounties and droughts form synergies from year to year. I've planted a deer plot seed mix in the same stoney hillside patch for a couple of years and the "only" thing it attracts is bear and turkey! Frustrated at first that I wasn't seeing deer, now I'm thankful to be witness to whatever wildlife makes its way in.