mushrooming in the monsoons

Monsoons are a great time to be in Kerala,especially if the house was on the backwaters and as far away from civilization as possible.The reason being that it rains and rains nonstop and as kids we always wondered how Noah built his ark.But the real story is the one of the mushrooms.Soon after the rains we would rush out into the fields surrounding the house,baskets in hand.There would be a dime a dozen fresh mushrooms,literally mushrooming around the place.We would scramble to pick the most number,fresh from the soil,the aroma of rain and wet earth was a heady mixture.We were taught how to differentiate between the regular ones and the poisonous ones but for the life of me I cant remember what it was.
The fresh mushrooms unlike the super market variety were thin,spindly ones and a grayish brown in colour.
They would be washed and mixed with grated coconut,steamed over a hot coal fire and served up garnished with mustard and curry leaves.Even before it was served up we would spoon it off the mud pots in which it was cook and relish the aftermath of the monsoons,mushroom style.
Why of why have those grasslands given way to concrete jungles.Why do we have to buy mushrooms from the supermarket all packed in plastic when all it required were bare hands.Well one thing even concrete jungles cant take away are my memories.I can still smell fresh rain drenched earth long after the cement has taken over.