Amidst the leaves that speckle the forest floor, a little orange cup extends toward the sky. Semicircles of white grow from a fallen log; frilly yellow saucers encircle the base of a tree. These are fall fungi—there all year, growing quietly, unseen until suddenly they emerge in full flush.

Fungi are sometimes described as “the hidden kingdom.” Ranging in size from the microscopic to the enormous, they can be found almost anywhere in the world—from the yeast that leavens your bread to the pale green fungal blankets that grow on Antarctic snow. But for most of the year, they are invisible to us, existing as webs of mycelium that can extend for miles underground: One honey fungus network in Oregon is considered to be the largest single organism on Earth. 

When the cooler, damp weather of fall and spring arrives, the mycelia send out fruiting bodies that you may more readily recognize as mushrooms. These seasons provide the perfect opportunity for learning to spot fungi. It’s an act that requires slowing down to search the leaves, soil and grass and recalls what anthropologist Anna Tsing has described as “the art of noticing,” a practice that can encourage us to be more mindful and aware of the natural world.

In the temperate zones of North America and Europe, you may spot orange-gilled toxic jack-o’-lantern mushrooms at the bases of old oaks (bioluminescent at night!), or conical shaggy inkcaps on the lawns in local parks. Penny buns (also known as porcinis) have stout brown caps and grow especially well on the edges of woodlands, while common field mushrooms and puffballs (which look exactly like their name) can pop up in rings that dapple open fields. And not all fungi are found on the ground: Look up as you walk through a forest and you may spot flame-orange chicken of the woods mushrooms growing from the sides of tree trunks.