Foraged
Spagyric
Fly Agaric · Soma · the crimson-capped one
The crimson-capped mushroom of birch and pine forests, gathered by hand in autumn and slow-dried the way the old traditions did, then extracted by hand in small batches. A ceremonial preparation for quiet, held moments — not a medicine, and not for everyday use.
You are visiting from Sweden, where muscimol is a scheduled substance. This preparation is not sold or shipped there — the page is here to read. Why that makes no sense →
Amanita muscaria fruits at the base of birch and pine across the autumn forests of the northern hemisphere. She has been used ceremonially across Siberian, Sámi, Baltic and Vedic cultures for millennia — framed variously as a sacred ally, a shamanic threshold, a winter-feast bringer of abundance and clarity. Every one of those traditions worked with the mushroom the same way: slow, patient drying.
We follow that tradition. The caps are gathered by hand, cleaned, and dried slowly and warmly over days rather than hours. Fresh, raw or hastily dried fly agaric is not the same thing and is not safe — the slow drying is the part of the craft that matters most.
The dried caps are then extracted by hand in small batches, and every batch is labelled and kept apart. The aim is not strength. It is a faithful, gentle preparation, used a drop at a time in a ceremonial setting.
Its main compound speaks to the brain on the same channel as the brain’s own quieting messenger — and yet, paradoxically, it loosens the grip of ordinary perception: that inward focus, that dream-like quality, that opening of symbolic awareness.
It is mycorrhizal with birch and pine. It cannot be cultivated. It grows only where the forest allows.
The forest makes what it wants, when it wants. We are only guests.
Fly agaric lives in partnership with birch, pine and spruce: its threads wrap the trees’ roots and trade minerals for sugar. Where you find one, you are standing on a network that joins the whole stand.
Siberian, Sámi and Baltic peoples kept fly agaric for ritual, winter feasts and the work of their healers and singers. It is the red-and-white mushroom of fairy tales, midwinter cards and woodland paintings — a figure of thresholds, of the dark half of the year, and of the gifts it brings.
As a ceremonial ally, never as a remedy or a productivity aid. It belongs to quiet evenings, to intention and to rest, with nothing else in the mix and nowhere to drive afterwards.
The first time: one drop under the tongue, in the evening, at home, in a quiet setting. Wait at least an hour before deciding anything about a second drop, and never take more than three drops in a day.
Keep the rest of the evening open. Never combine with alcohol or anything else, and never drive or operate machinery afterwards. If you are unsure whether it is right for you, write to Robin before you begin.
The fly agaric has grown under birch and pine for longer than there have been laws. In some countries one of its compounds, muscimol, now sits on the same narcotics lists as drugs made in laboratories. Robin thinks that is wrong — and has written down why.
In January 2026 Robin answered the proposal to classify muscimol as a narcotic: a letter and an expert annex, in English and in Swedish. The argument is about proportion — regulate concentrated synthetic products, not a mushroom and its traditions.
An argument about law and history, not advice to use anything where it is not legal.