After rain, on a dead branch, something yellow appears. Not a leaf. Not a flower. A blob. A yellow, wobbly, brain-like blob. Witches butter is a bright yellow, gelatinous fungus with a brain-like, convoluted shape. It looks like something that should be in a science fiction film, not on a fallen log in the bush. Soft. Jelly-like. Slightly repellent. And completely fascinating. When dry, it shrinks to a hard, dark crust that looks like nothing at all. Then the rain returns and it rehydrates, expanding back to its full, yellow, wobbly self. Not dead. Just waiting for water. A fungus that plays dead, then comes back to life. It is parasitic on other wood-rotting fungi. That is the part people miss. Witches butter does not feed on the wood directly. It feeds on the mycelium of other fungi that are already breaking down the log. A fungus that eats other fungi. The forest has its own food chain, and it operates at scales that cannot be seen. Not edible. Some sources say it is, technically, but it has no flavour and a texture like wet rubber. There are better things to eat in the bush. There are also worse. This is somewhere in the middle. Leave it on the log. The name comes from European folklore. Witches used it to curse butter, or so the story goes. In New Zealand, it is just a yellow blob on a stick. No curses. No magic. Just a jelly fungus doing its parasitic thing. The magic is in the biology, not the story. Appears in autumn and winter, when the rain is frequent and the air is damp. Look on dead wood in native forest and pine plantations alike. The yellow colour stands out against the brown bark and green moss. It cannot be missed. Touch it. It wobbles. That is all. But sometimes, that is enough.