One sultry afternoon last summer, my mum and I were out for a stroll along a quiet country road in Perthshire.
As we ambled along, enjoying the novelty of being outside in Scotland without jackets, my mum spotted something lurking in the grassy verge.
“There’s an old football over there,” she said.
We went to investigate and discovered that there were, astonishingly enough, two old footballs sitting quite close to each other.
Only they weren’t footballs, they were enormous mushrooms.