scan: moving 2

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Provenance: Three images of the first morels I ever found & guiltily picked in a muddy patch in the forest. We found them after a week that alternated rain and sun like a clockwork mechanism. Nearby there were several clusters of oyster mushrooms on logs that were so luscious, so wet and engorged, as to be obscene. Not wanting to crush the morels in my bag, we gently put them in the breast pocket of M's shell and walked on, the mushroom lump beating against his chest. Later I read that seasoned mushroom hunters prefer onion mesh bags so that the spores can be accidentally/deliberately spread as you haul the meaty handfuls out.