I can’t remember how many years ago it was when I first met him, but I can recall the event as if it was yesterday. It was one of those stunning Autumn days when the sky was clear of cloud and as blue as blue can be; the sun, playing on the yellow and gold leaves that remained on the trees, burnished them to excellence. As I drove along the track towards my beautiful home I thanked my lucky stars for being so fortunate to be living in the very heart of this wonderful Forest of ours. And then I spotted the car. It was a small hatchback with very faded paintwork, not the sort of vehicle that one expects in a New Forest Inclosure. It looked very ominous parked on the grass verge and, as I slowly passed it, I glanced at the windscreen to see if it sported the round, yellow, Forestry Commission, Inclosure pass – it didn’t.
I had no option but to stop my Land Rover to investigate. In reality it was none of my business but, living where we do, it’s nice to know who might be lurking around the property. I walked around the rather dishevelled car, peering through the windows as I went and then, from the corner of an eye, I caught a movement in the bracken beyond the roadside and turned. A good head of grey hair emerged from the brown ferns followed by a genial, well-weathered face sporting an equally grey beard. A tall but slightly stooped figure unfolded and ambled toward me; waving a salutation with one hand and carrying a wicker basket in the other.
I asked what he was doing and he replied, with a very Italian accent but perfect grammar, that he was collecting mushrooms. I pointed out that he should not have driven into the Inclosure without a pass and he shrugged his shoulders and explained that he had done so for many years. I told him about the problems that we were having with commercial pickers and he agreed that such activity should be curtailed. He was in no way aggressive and I warmed to him immediately. He went on to tell me that he had overcome a life-threatening illness and one of the things that he loved to do, to aid his further recovery, was to drive, in the early hours of the morning, from his London home, to the New Forest, where he could enjoy the peace and beauty and at the same time gather a few mushrooms for his personal use. The cost of petrol alone, far outweighed the value of his few mushrooms so ‘Commercial Forager’ didn’t even enter my mind so I suggested that, in future, he should park his car, with impunity, at my house from where he could conduct his brief excursions.
He was overwhelmed by my offer and from time to time he would do just that but not without leaving gifts of wine, cheese, ham and other similar delights from his native Italy. We became firm friends and we looked forward to the Autumn and the brief moments in his company. Just last week he brought with him his English wife of thirty years, who was equally charming and who had expressed a desire to see just where her husband occassionly visited.
But why am I telling you this? Well, for two reasons. First of all, a little kindness can, sometimes, be rewarded a hundred times over; but I’m sure that most of you already know this. Secondly, there is much talk, because of the damage being caused by large bands of commercial mushroom pickers, of a total ban on fungi gathering on the Forest. It’s my opinion that the ‘Decision Makers’ should think long and hard about this, for such a law will be a case of the thoughtless, money-grabbing minority depriving the majority – i.e. my Italian friend, me, some of you and the other like-minded people who just come to pick a few tasty mushrooms for their own breakfasts. Now that can’t be right. Can it?
From all of us in the Inclosure, have a jolly good Christmas!
Ian Thew
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