Country diary: An invasion of tiny fungi parachutists has landed overnight | Phil Gates

Hollingside lane, Durham: Pleated inkcaps may live for a day but here we've been watching other fungi, such as dryad's saddle, grow since spring

There were none here yesterday, and by the end of tomorrow they'llhave deliquesced and disappeared, but for now the neatly mown grass under our feet was studded with 2in-tall parasol inkcaps (Parasola plicatilis). They looked like an invasion of tiny parachutists; in reality they'd risen from the underworld.

They were here all along, as a mycelium of microscopically slender hyphae, down among the grassroots. Autumn is the fungal forager's season but fungi, as hyphae or spores, are everywhere, unseen, all the time. Occasionally, driven by the imperative to reproduce, their ramifying network of independent threads collaborates, producing spores in toadstools. Some, like these inkcaps, are ephemeral; others, like the dryad's saddle (Cerioporus squamosus) we'd been watching since spring, grow from teacup to tea-tray proportions, slowly digesting dead wood, taking months to reach maturity.