Collected mushrooms near the farm. Is it far from the great-grandfather's house to the forest.

This story is words of my friend's father. Collected mushrooms near the farm. Is it far from the great-grandfather's house to the forest. Hello, dear readers of tech info 05! I am glad to welcome you in another publication on my small blog about the village and the restoration of an old house. Autumn is not only cloudy weather and rains. It's also mushroom season. Surely among you there are many lovers of quiet hunting. After all, walking through the forest, breathing fresh air and picking up a basket or two of mushrooms is real happiness.

As soon as my dad and I finished the work of fitting and building up the logs of the log house of the extension, we decided to check the neighboring forest. Before, even in my memory there was a field. I remember when they brought me here to my grandmother, even at the entrance to the village you could see the roofs of the houses, and on both sides of the road there was not a single tree. And now a young forest is growing here. The house is no longer visible. Either everything was overgrown, or the roofs themselves disappeared along with the houses.

The road passes here and now, straight and short. She, by the way, is listed on the plans. They even clean it up in the winter. Unless, of course, demand it from the administration. But on New Year's Eve they clean it regularly. Probably so that residents can go to the store and buy something for the festive table.

Wow, something got me in the wrong place. The article is about mushrooms, not about the road. So, we worked with dad and decided to check the mushrooms. Especially since it has recently rained and it doesn't seem to be cold outside. So there must be something, in theory.

We went off the road into the grass and wandered towards the river, between young pines. Carefully examining everything under your feet. But there is nothing. It seems to me that it's like going out of a bright room at night to the street and look at the starry sky. At first, nothing will be visible. But as the eyes get used to the darkness, it turns out to distinguish more and more celestial bodies. So the mushrooms, as the eyes get used to the forest soil, do not immediately become distinguishable.

And now, five minutes later, I'm already cutting the first butter dish. And there's more and more nearby. These mushrooms, hated by some people because of their oily caps that make the fingers blacken, grow in "families". It is rare to find a single oiler.

Dad also collects butterflies in full. But we only have one 15-liter construction bucket for two of us. We pour the gifts of the forest into it. Then I go to the bucket, then dad. We carry it in turn.

And somewhere aside, on the other side of a long ravine, not far from the old mill, dad found several families of saffron milk caps. They have just come out of the ground. This means that very soon it will be possible to collect not only boletus, but also these delicacy mushrooms.

And the butterflies will go to fry and mushroom picking. In half an hour we collected half a large bucket. So today will be mushroom day!

And not far from the farm there is another forest that is very interesting in terms of picking mushrooms. I think we will go there soon! If, of course, time and weather permit. In general, the area on one side of the village is completely overgrown with forest. On the other hand, it is actively used by the local collective farm. Every year in our neighborhood people plow, sow and thresh. But beyond the river - a non-standing bear land. There once was a road - an old tract. But now it is also abandoned. From above, only his silhouette is guessed from the drone.