Yes, that’s one of the eccentric names given to nature’s original and most vital recyclers, explains Ben Vanheems of BBOWT

Autumn is the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness. It’s also the season when the majority of fungi push through leaf litter and tree bark to show off their myriad of weird and wonderful forms.

Fungi are truly fabulous. They are nature’s original recyclers, breaking down dead plant and animal matter back into usable nutrients ready for the next generation of plants to feast on.

Without fungi the nutrient cycle would simply grind to a halt, which would be bad news, to put it mildly, for everything higher up the ‘food chain’.

If fungi are fabulous, they’re also something of an enigma.

The mushrooms and toadstools you’ll spot on autumn walks are in fact fruiting bodies thrusting out from an expansive network of hidden mycelium: the vegetative part of the fungus that quietly sits underground for the rest of the year. It is a delicate balance of damp soil and residual summer warmth that triggers these reproductive organs to emerge and release their spores.

Remarkably, geneticists have concluded that fungi have more in common with animals than they do plants.

Many of the common names of our most charismatic fungi hint at their animal-like appearance and fleshy texture: jelly ear, hairy earthtongue, or turkeytail, being just a few examples.

The woods around Oxford offer prime hunting ground for fungi fanatics to go about their annual forays.

A host of familiar species is joined by some really eccentric fungi whose evocative names say something about the people that named them; dog vomit fungus, which makes a slimy yellow pool, should appeal to those with a childish sense of humour.

Excellent places to start your own foray include BBOWT’s nature reserves at Sydlings Copse north of Barton, Whitecross Green Wood, near Horton-cum-Studley, and Warburg Nature Reserve on the edge of the Chilterns, near Nettlebed.

The careful management of these woodland nature reserves ensures there is plenty of dead wood and leaves for fungi to inhabit and feed on.

A fungi-spotters’ book such as Peter Creed’s A Guide to Fungi in Berkshire, Buckinghamshire and Oxfordshire (Pisces Publications, £5.95) is essential to help you identify the edible from inedible and downright poisonous.

One of the easiest fungi to identify is the iconic fly agaric; its bright-red cap, speckled with white warts, is the stuff of childhood fairy tales.

Medieval texts indicate that this poisonous toadstool was crushed into milk for use as a rudimentary fly killer.

It thrives in silver birch woodland, and is widespread throughout our county.

Another colourful and easily found toadstool is the striking amethyst deceiver. Its purple caps range from 1-6cm across and sit atop dainty stems dusted with tiny white hairs. Amethyst deceivers love the leaf litter from beech trees.

The collared earthstar deserves a mention for its other-worldly means of dispersal.

First, its outer skin splits into four to eight segments, giving it the appearance of a pointed star. These then flex downwards to lift up and expose the bulbous spore sack.

Crouch down and peer closely and you will see the tiny hole at the apex of the sack from where the spores are puffed out and carried away on the wind.

Most fungi are classified according to how they grow and their physical appearance.

Club fungi, for example, have slim, spindle-like fruiting bodies, while inkcaps are so named because their gills ‘melt’ with age to produce an ink-like ooze that contains the spores.

Bracket fungi produce typically tough and leathery fruiting bodies, usually in horizontal tiers on trees, both living and dead, and tree stumps.

Keep your eye in and you may well spot a wrinkled peach, pearly parachute, saffrondrop bonnet and a host of other curiosities.