Seating for nymphs

For those of us who study the natural world's revolving rhythm the charm lies as much re-acquaintance with the old as in encounters with the new.
Here, again, is my old friend Polyporous squamosus, dryad's saddle fungus, back again on the ash stump in the lane just like last year and several years before that, ever since this particular tree lost its grip on life (and has been taken down.)
There is still enough nourishment in what remains of it to provide saddles for a plethora of dryads* and a supper snack for me when I take my kitchen knife down the lane to cut a hunk of it away. (It has to be young and tender for eating otherwise you might as well chew on old leather.)

*Use the link, if you wish, to hear Sylvia Plath reading her elegant so-named poem about trying to catch a glimpse of the 'sluttish nymphs' who might conceivably employ this fungal seating.