Year of the Gnome: May Morel

The Gnome sipped on somenocinowhile glaring at an old map splayed across his kitchen table. The pungent, dark walnut liqueur had a spicy heat that wormed its way down his esophagus and into his belly. He’d won the map in a game of throwing bones off a man who promised it led to a patch of morels as big as The Gnome himself. He was fairly certain the map was a mockery—why else would someone give away this kind of information in a game of luck?

And yet, the Gnome was captivated by the markings on the old parchment. Frayed edges aged the document and faded script he couldn’t quite make out labeled landmarks he was all too familiar with, yet it led to a valley in the hills he’d never wandered into. The man who lost the map did seem genuinely remorseful to see it go, but couldn’t he remember the path without the map? The Gnome took another sip, lighting the fire in his guts. He promptly folded the map, stuck it in his pocket, put on his boots, and headed out the door.

The Gnome was a little bleary-eyed, but the moon was high and bright, and he could get to the first stop, Rock Creek, with his eyes shut. So he stumbled down the familiar path and dreamed of giant morel steaks frying in butter. Thinking of the aroma alone caused a stray strand of slobber to drip from the corner of his mouth and run down his long white beard.

Once he got to Rock Creek, he wound his way up Devil’s Fork Canyon, and climbed up atop Broken Nose Peak. Breathing heavily, he decided to take another look at the map in the red light of the rising sun—this was where things got tricky. Apparently, there was a cave somewhere on the mountain that turned into a tunnel, which would eventually drop him into the Morel Meadow.

The Gnome wandered over the rocky ground, searching for the opening. He paced back and forth over lichen-covered boulders looking for his path when he felt a damp, cool air. The mouth of the cave was no bigger than a stretched out beaver hide. He peered inside to see stalagmites and stalactites forming demon-like teeth that were seemingly neverending into the dark abyss.

Without a second thought, the Gnome squeezed himself into the thick, humid air of the cave. He carefully wound around the rocky formations, relying on any sense but sight as the morning light was quickly choked out by the small opening. His hand made contact with a thick, slimy pile of something odorous, probably bat guano. He wiped it off and continued ducking and weaving through the maze of minerals.

Eventually, the cave opened up, the path became easier, and light started trickling in. The Gnome quickened his pace, ecstatic to exit the stale air and filled with curiosity of what would await him on the other side.

The gambler hadn’t lied. What the Gnome gazed upon a lush meadow of tall grass, towering trees, and otherworldly enormous morels. The Gnome laughed in glee and ran to the first massive morel. He stuck his nose into the flesh and took in a big whiff of the aromatic fungus. He couldn’t believe his fortune.

He squatted down, with two hands around the base of the giant mushroom, and pulled up with all his strength. It released from the earth with a groan and dropped onto its side. Before the Gnome could appreciate his treasure, a millipede the size of his leg crawled out of the base of the fungi.

It was a horror with thousands of shaking legs and giant antennae seeking out just what had dislodged it from its happy home. The Gnome jumped back, grabbed the nearest rock, and proceeded to smash the giant insect on the head until its wiggling, writhing body finally stopped moving.

Relieved to be rid of that monstrosity, he peered inside the morel to see what damage the bug had caused. Minimal. He built a fire and roasted steak-sized chunks of the morel over the open flame. Charred, umami bliss filled his belly. Gluttonous in the harvest, he ate the entire mushroom, then took a quick fireside nap.

When he picked out the next tree-sized morel he’d bring home, he was wary of any giant insects that might be lurking inside. This one was clean. He roped the fungi to his back and started his journey home. He’d be back for more.

Want to celebrate the Gnome in all his glory?Click hereto get the May Morel Gnome T-Shirt. We’ll be dropping new shirts and stories every month to commemorate the Year of the Gnome.

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