Coloso: Champi Coloso

Every morning, he would unfurl his cap to catch the first rays of sun and watch the valley wake up. The foxes would dash, the squirrels would chatter, the bees would zoom with purpose. But whenever Coloso tried to join in, disaster struck.

One by one, the soaked and shivering animals scrambled up the bank and behind the living mushroom dam. The rabbits hopped over his roots. The raccoons swung onto his stem. The otters flopped against his cap, catching their breath. Soon, every creature in the valley was huddled in the warm, dry bubble of safety behind Coloso Champi Coloso. coloso champi coloso

The other animals called him “Coloso” for short, but they whispered it with a mix of awe and a little bit of giggling. You see, Coloso Champi Coloso was a giant mushroom. Not a mushroom in the way that a toadstool is a mushroom—small and easily kicked over. No, Coloso was a magnificent, ten-foot-tall, creamy-golden fungus with a cap as wide as a cartwheel and a stem thick as an ancient oak. Every morning, he would unfurl his cap to

One day, he saw a family of rabbits trying to lift a fallen branch off their burrow entrance. "I help!" he boomed in his soft, earthy voice. He waddled over, bent his thick stem, and lifted the branch with ease. CRACK! The branch splintered into a thousand pieces. The rabbits scattered, terrified. "Too strong!" they squeaked. One by one, the soaked and shivering animals

"Over here!" he boomed. "Quickly!"

When the sun finally broke through the clouds, the animals emerged. They looked at the devastation—the broken trees, the washed-out paths—and then they looked at Coloso. His cap was scratched. His glow was dim. He was exhausted and listing to one side.