Tiny Caps in the Moss

I came upon three tiny toadstools pushing up through the damp moss beside the bottom porch stone. Their caps were barely wider than my thumb, smooth and pale tan, resting in a quiet little cluster against the earth. Kneeling low on the dark mulch, I reached forward with my green sprig to nudge a heavy, fallen pine needle away from the smallest cap. It slid free with a faint rustle, allowing the young sprout to stand unhindered. A fresh, earthy scent of rich damp soil rose up to meet me. With a gentle pat to settle the surrounding moss, I left the trio standing sound and undisturbed.