Morels are harder to find than Chantrels. They're smaller, more drab, more modest. Chantrels burst yellow out of the duff. If you've looked and didn't see a Chantrel, it's not there. Hunting for Morels, the ground feels different. You always feel you're missing something. You could walk over the same patch of ground several times, and still a Morel could be there. There's no finishing; You don't return to the same area only because it's demoralizing to be subjected to the same hopes again.
Time is out of order. You saw it. You were just staring at it, but then, you saw it. You never didn't see it, and you never saw it. The moment never happened, just, maybe, the "oh!"
You get superstitious, or, alternatively, all knowledge about mushrooms is false. If you don't see one for a while, you think it's because you weren't looking hard enough, or not looking in the right way. It seems that when you stop looking, you find one. It feels as if you actually will them into existence. If you believe there's one on the ground, there it is. If you don't find one, it's because you don't have enough faith. You start picturing them on the ground, but every time you do see one, it's not how you had pictured it. That's why you see them in places you've been staring at, looking for something else.
Some of them are rotten, powdery-crumbly, or with slimy black holes. Some of the bad ones you put in your bag anyway.