In the depths of ancient forests, where sunlight barely pierces and mist weaves among twisted trees, lies a secret kept for centuries: the hidden realm of fungi and plants, silent priests of the eternal cycle of life, death, and rebirth.
Since time immemorial, ancient pagan traditions have revered these beings as portals between the visible and invisible worlds. Messengers of the earth, night, and shadow deities. To the arcane cults, the fungus is not merely an organism; it is a sacred link, a living fragment of nature’s primordial crypt, where the spirit of the world whispers its deepest truths.
In this journal, “Echoes from the Fungal Crypt,” we embark on a ritualistic journey through the cultivation of plants and mushrooms, grown with respect and devotion to ancient wisdom, seeking not only the harvest but communion with the wild essence that dwells within the dark, moist soil.
Every spore released, every root that grows, carries with it the echoes of forgotten rites, the call of the ancients for us to become guardians of this sacred alliance between humanity and forest. In cultivating, we do not merely feed bodies, but awaken ancestral forces, embracing the darkness and light that dance beneath the surface of life.
May this journal serve as a grimoire of learning, an altar for reverence toward nature, and a tribute to the shadows that shape our world. May the voices of the past resonate among the leaves and mushrooms, and may we harvest not just fruits, flowers, spores and mushrooms, but the true knowledge of the roots of existence.
Man… Until now I was only cultivating some beans from smoke that I got… So all of they are like mixed-breed plants… I’ve got some terpz like mango (mango in smoke), fungus (earth in the smoke), gas (gas in smoke). All this from the last year… Now i’ve running some clones from the smaller plant from these year all 4 in middle flower. And got some pineapple express #2 (g13 labs) hashplant-D F2 bodhi (from @bigLblazed). And some Blue afghani f3 (from @darkillusion) in veg right now. I’m organizing to make the posts from all the grows that i’ve got pictures… coming up to what I’m growing now…
I also forgot to mention… I usually grow in carolina soil (peat + vermiculite aprox. 75%) and aprox. 25~30% perlite.
I like to keep it like this because I can’t water too often per week.
Veg: (PlantProd 7-11-27+ Calnit). Flower: Calnit + CaClâ‚‚ (Part A). KHâ‚‚POâ‚„ + Kâ‚‚SOâ‚„ + MgS0â‚„ (Part B). Ringratec Micromix (Part C).
But now I’ve got 1 pineapple express #2 (g13 labs), 2 blue afghani f3 (@darkillusion ) and 1 hashplant-D f2 bodhi (@bigLblazed) in coco (aprox. 80~75%) and perlite (aprox. 25~20%) And only 2 Blue afghani (the same origin as the others) running in peat+ vermiculite (aprox. 70~80%) and perlite (20~30%)
Thank you @Magu ! It’s a path we walk together. The forest and fungi holds many secrets, and I’m but a humble student myself. The true masters are the fungi and the plants, whispering their wisdom to those who listen.
Damn dude, you kicked the damn door down! Sick name, badass intro, and the plants are fucking gorgeous! Your journal’s fire, props for that. You finally answered your bro’s request.
Following the saga, you wicked psychonaut!
Praise the mushrooms, respect the mushrooms, FEAR THE MUSHROOMS.
Your words echo through the fungal crypt like a chant beneath the forest’s breath. The mushrooms feel the praise, and the shadows stir in answer. Together, we’re guardians of the forgotten roots and mycelium. Let’s keep honoring the ancient pact with every leaf and spore.Tks for all the inspiration and in your honor:
In the shadowed groves where my garden takes root, the journey hasn’t always been easy. The beans that I’ve planted until now are often humble, found in brick-weeds and other smokes from the past often called mixed-breed plants of unknown genetics. Genetics that only bring some little traits of ancient magic and are contaminated by the greed of the man. Yet, in every seed and sprout, I pour my soul, honoring the earth’s silent pact with respect and devotion.
This garden is my altar, the soil my sacred crypt, where even the simplest roots carry the echoes of forgotten rites. Through darkness and light, I tend to this wild communion, trusting in the unseen forces that awaken beneath the surface.
And here, within this fierce and fucking awesome community. This grove of OverGrowers. I have found more than seeds. I’ve found living fragments of the forest’s eternal cycle: incredible genetics and crosses, spores of ancient wisdom, gifts from those who walk the same shadowed path full of ancient magic.
I’m beyond excited to share these sacred harvests with you all, to honor the fungi, the plants, and the timeless spirits that bind us in this ritual of growth, decay, and rebirth. Together, we are guardians of the fungal crypt. Keepers of the roots and mycelium that reach deep into the soul of the earth.
Praise the mushrooms. Respect the roots and the darkness. And may the echoes of the crypt guide our hands and hearts always.
I see all the oysters you have growing. They are some of our favorite culinaries. We forage quite a bit. Attending the Telluride Mushroom Festival this year. Super stoked!
That’s real cool man… Here in my country we don’t have this mushroom hunt in culture yet… Only the Psilocybe cubensis found on pasture of cows but only a few people that do it… In one my hunts I found one that has the cap of the size of a humam adult head. The mushrooms found on the pasture are like these:
The lunar tides have turned again, and with them, the sacred dwellers of soil stir. Wormwood rises with defiance. The fungi, cloaked in dew, glisten like stars caught in cobwebs. No voice speaks louder than the quiet perseverance of growth. We mark this moment not as gardeners, but as witnesses. Stewards of a pact older than time, between breath and rot, between sun and shadow.
The veils have thinned once again, and beneath their damp folds, the garden stirs with whispers.
No pest has dared cross the threshold of the beds this week. Perhaps the guardians, those we do not see but always feel, have strengthened their watch. Or perhaps the recent offerings in the correct ratios of fertz and water pleased them.
There is balance, yes, but it is not tranquil. It is a hush before revelation. I sense something coalescing beneath the mulch and bark, a message forming in hyphae and sap. The forest does not speak in haste.
Today, on this sacred Sunday, the fungi unveil their fruiting bodies, rising like ephemeral cathedrals amid the damp shadows of the ancient soil. Each cap slowly grow and unfolds, a living offering to eternity, soon releasing spores, invisible seeds of rebirth that dance in the air thick with mystery. The rich, aroma of the dense buds mingles with the subtle, intoxicating and heavy scent of fungal mycelia a fragrant testament to life’s hidden depths.
The plants answer this awakening in full bloom, bearing dense and robust buds and closed pollen sacs, both heavy with vital energy. It is as if the forest itself chants a silent hymn, celebrating the endless cycle of life and death, where every thricome and every grain of pollen holds the power of ancient natural rites.
In this moment, we become witnesses and guardians of the sacred bond between the visible and the invisible, between matter and spirit. The coming harvest is not only nourishment for the body but an offering to the wild essence pulsing beneath the surface, calling us to listen, respect, and learn.
May today’s flowering and fruiting remind us of the strength and mystery dwelling in the forest an invitation to continue walking this path of reverence and communion with the deep wild
Clones (very heavy tks they have some wall to shore)
In the depths of our sacred garden, where ancient whispers mingle with the breath of earth, the cycle of life unfolds anew. The male plant is releasing an abundant cloud of pollen, a testament to nature’s relentless rhythm. Nearby, our carefully tended clones edge ever closer to their harvest, one has already been gathered, a silent offering to the eternal cycle.
The Hashplant-D and Pineapple Express #2 have begun their floral dance, pistills growing everywhere, promising new chapters in this ritual of growth. Among the Blue Afghani sisters, one was gently laid to rest after revealing “nanners”, a subtle signal we honored with respect. The other continues to fatten, its terpenes rich with a complex mix of sour and sweet terpenes, a fragrant echo of the forest’s hidden mysteries.
Beneath the soil’s dark veil, the fungi have fruited, and the first cycles have been carefully harvested, living bridges between earth and spirit, their silent presence weaving the sacred thread connecting all life.
In this space, we do more than cultivate plants and mushrooms; we nurture the ancient covenant between humanity and the wild, awakening the ancestral forces rooted in shadow and light. Each leaf, spore, and bud is a whispered invocation, a call to become guardians of this sacred alliance.
May this update serve as both record and ritual, a testament to the sacred dance beneath the canopy, where life, death, and rebirth intertwine, and where every harvest brings us closer to the true knowledge of existence’s roots.
In the pictures of the 6 plants together inside the tent we got the 3 clones behind in the front from the left to the right we got (Blue afghani F3 in the left, Hashplant-D in the middle and Pineapple express#2 in the right). The Blue Afghani F3 male are in another room.
