Exquisite, But Edible?

A blaze of colour strikes the eye, a wide,
bright orange patch where surely we recall
none existed only yesterday. Well-textured
and mature, even at that distance, teasing
from its perch on the opposite bank of the creek.
Look, there it is, see it, now? Look beyond the
tree trunks, the leafy branches swooping
low, there, over there, you can't miss it.

The sun glances on the bright colour,
enhances it, a shining, nuanced reflection
of its own wild and fiery presence reflected
from the sky down to our wooded ravine.
Orange, among the browns and greys and
surrounding greens of overhanging boughs
resplendent in summer leaves and coniferous
needles, there it is, that patch of fungi,
challenging and urging us to approach.

One who thinks he knows, names them
chanterelles and gamely plucks one. Its
fragrance compelling as its brilliant hue, one's
mouth waters at the imagined irresistibility
of its divine taste, the image of this
dinner-plate-sized treat gently simmered
in butter and proudly served on a
porcelain platter; no other thing to disturb
its pre-eminently persuasive presence.

But wait, admire its fiery colour, the
immensity of its fungal growth, the beauty
of its finely-textured gills, another wonder
of Nature's devising; promised and delivered
bounty. Her exquisite gifts to her creatures,
like the transcendent lilt of the cardinal,
carmine-hued above us, giving warning of
survival-potential in casual misidentification.