The textural masterpiece of the forest margin. It is defined by semi-circular, wavy-edged brackets that grow in dense, crowded tiers. The upper surface is the star of the show. It is covered in a thick, velvety layer of fine, stiff hairs. Hence hirsutum. These hairs feel like a 70s shag carpet. They are typically a bright, ochre-yellow or vivid orange at the growing edge. They fade into bands of grey, tan and brown toward the centre. This zoned appearance makes each bracket look like a miniature, fuzzy rainbow. Or a piece of topographical map carved from felt. The visual is complex. The texture is distinct. A master of structural toughness. Unlike the fleshy mushrooms we have seen, the hairy curtain crust is thin, flexible and remarkably leathery. The underside is completely smooth. It lacks gills, pores or teeth. It is a bright, waxy yellow. It can turn a deep bruised orange if scratched. This smooth surface is where the spores are produced. They are released directly into the air currents. Because it is so resilient, it can survive being dried out completely during a drought. It simply goes dormant and shrivels. It re-hydrates and starts releasing spores again the moment the next rain hits. The adaptation is robust. The survival is assured. A white-rot specialist. The hairy curtain crust targets the lignin in dead wood. It leaves behind the white, stringy cellulose. This eventually breaks down into rich, organic soil. It is a secondary coloniser. It moves in after the primary fungi have already softened the wood. Its dense, overlapping growth acts like a waterproof shingle roof for the log. This maintains a high-humidity environment underneath. Other microbes and tiny insects can thrive there. The function is protective. The role is communal. To find a log draped in hairy curtain crust is to see the forest's insulation at work. A fuzzy, colourful shield ensures nothing in the bush goes to waste. It still drapes the fallen logs of the New Zealand bush. You can see it in the native forests of the North Island. In the beech woods of the South. On the fence posts of the paddocks. You just have to look at eye level. Not at your feet. The perspective shifts. The discovery follows. The hairs are stiff. The zones are coloured. The underside is smooth. The resilience is high. The rot is white. The shelter is provided. The fungus persists. It does not seek attention. It seeks substrate. It finds it on the branch. It covers it in felt. It releases the spores. And that seems to be enough.