Firefly Glen make it make sense

He resonated with her answer then too, and in a great many ways, he existed to continue parts of his mother's legacy in ways only his specific interests could allow. Not all too many of his siblings veered in just that right way, too, and he had trained closely with their mom to ensure that--not that he could have ever imagined it happening differently; her interests had simply carried over smoothly with him. But, ah, he was not the best at weaving his words neatly--there tended to be too many of them, for he had a lot of observations and thoughts to sort on all kinds of matters. Hopefully she wouldn't fault him for the impending mess, but he was game to try in exchange for a story. Well, alright. I can try--but there is so much, and it's still very much works in progress, he reasoned as he gave her a slow nod to let his mind race ahead. Where to begin?

As for tips? Lately I've been trying to learn about signs of the change of seasons.. small ones, but every year there's only so long to see. And he was yet young on what he hoped to be a grand scheme. Since it has been a wet year on the mountain, anyway, and I've seen a lot of different kinds of fungi happening, I'm waiting to see exactly when this type my mother showed me last year that tasted just like.. a kind of meat, like pheasant almost? And it was plenty filling. So, probably useful in tough times, or for a different sort of zest than normal, he grinned a little. It should come late in the summer, early fall. Only grows one time a year. Worth a lookout--it's creamy and orange colored at the base of old trees usually, and comes in a shape more like a very thick flower's bloom than the.. other stalk-like kinds. Of sometimes questionable-looking sorts, but he wasn't comfortable enough of a friend with her to make that joke. Anyway, the naturalist in him felt it a good try for whatever was vaguely useful to anyone else, and after that, he waited to see what she might think of that.