Fungi’s communication
I’ve been thinking about how fungi might communicate, not in a symbolic way, but through small shifts of electricity inside their bodies. Andrew Adamatzky’s work describes how different fungi produce their own patterns of electrical spikes—slow, gentle pulses that vary from species to species.
With his suggestion, I tried a simple test. I set up a PicoLog device beside a few mushrooms and recorded their electrical activity before and after watering them. Nothing elaborate—just watching what the signals would do.
The data came back messy, full of noise. But after sorting through it, a few moments stood out: small fluctuations that didn’t belong to the background hum. They weren’t dramatic, but they felt intentional somehow, as if the mushrooms were adjusting to the water and noting it to each other in their own quiet way.
I kept these small spikes as traces—tiny marks of a conversation I can’t fully understand, but can still observe.
It was just a small experiment, more like a sketch in my field notes than a formal study, but it opened a small window into how these organisms move and respond, quietly, beneath the surface.
With his suggestion, I tried a simple test. I set up a PicoLog device beside a few mushrooms and recorded their electrical activity before and after watering them. Nothing elaborate—just watching what the signals would do.
The data came back messy, full of noise. But after sorting through it, a few moments stood out: small fluctuations that didn’t belong to the background hum. They weren’t dramatic, but they felt intentional somehow, as if the mushrooms were adjusting to the water and noting it to each other in their own quiet way.
I kept these small spikes as traces—tiny marks of a conversation I can’t fully understand, but can still observe.
It was just a small experiment, more like a sketch in my field notes than a formal study, but it opened a small window into how these organisms move and respond, quietly, beneath the surface.
Noted by Huang-Yunkui