Picture yourself taking a walk through the woods, maybe straying a little from the main path, perhaps searching for mushrooms or simply enjoying the quiet, when suddenly you spot something that makes your heart skip a beat. Rising from the forest floor, poking through damp leaf litter, are what appear to be gnarled, blackened human fingers clawing their way out of the ground.

For a split second, your mind leaps to the worst possible conclusion, imagining a horror movie scene come to life. But there is no body buried there—what you’ve stumbled upon is one of the strangest and most unsettling fungi found in nature, commonly called Dead Man’s Fingers. Even its scientific name, Xylaria polymorpha, can’t quite match the eerie impact of its appearance. The first time I encountered one was on a gloomy, wet autumn afternoon. The ground was covered with soggy, half-decayed leaves, and as I poked around the base of a rotting stump, I spotted a small cluster of charcoal-colored, finger-like structures arranged disturbingly like a human hand. I froze, stepped back, and then, driven by curiosity, crouched down for a closer look. These odd growths are fungi, but they’re not the whimsical red-and-white mushrooms you’d find in a children’s book.

Instead, they resemble burnt sausages or dried, twisted roots caught mid-transformation into a corpse’s hand. They grow from dead hardwoods—usually stumps or underground roots—feeding on decaying wood. Unlike parasitic fungi, Dead Man’s Fingers are saprophytes, meaning they don’t harm living trees. In fact, they play a valuable ecological role by breaking down tough, dense wood and recycling it back into nutrient-rich soil. When young, they are soft, pale, and slightly fleshy. As they mature, they turn black and harden, with their tips often fading to a lighter or whitish shade, enhancing their finger-like resemblance. They are small, usually just one to two inches tall, but they tend to grow in clusters that can easily be mistaken for skeletal hands reaching out of the soil.

As for whether you can eat them, the answer is an emphatic no. While they are not technically poisonous, their texture is incredibly woody—chewing one would be like gnawing on a stick. Even if you were to dry and grind them, they would taste bitter and unpleasant, offering no culinary value. This is a perfect reminder that “not toxic” does not mean “edible.” Take a picture, admire their eerie beauty, but keep them far from your dinner plate. Touching them is safe; they won’t cause a rash or ooze anything harmful. However, because they are wild fungi, it’s always a good idea to wash your hands after handling them, especially during spore season if you suffer from allergies.

You’re most likely to spot Dead Man’s Fingers from late summer through fall, but once they have dried and hardened, they can persist for many months, sometimes even protruding through snow in the winter. They thrive in shady, damp environments and are commonly found near hardwoods such as oak, beech, or maple, often at the base of rotting stumps or connected to decaying roots. Their finger-like shape isn’t intentional—it’s simply the natural growth form of the fungus, likely designed to aid in spore dispersal.

The resemblance to human anatomy is purely coincidental, though the pale tips can look like fingernails, which certainly doesn’t help their creepy reputation. Despite their unsettling look, Dead Man’s Fingers are an important part of the forest ecosystem. By breaking down some of the hardest wood, they enrich the soil, making it possible for new plants to grow and contribute to the cycle of life in the forest. It’s a reminder that appearances can be deceiving, and that something seemingly grotesque can actually be quite beneficial.

So, the next time you’re hiking and see what appears to be a skeleton’s hand emerging from the earth, don’t panic. Instead, take a closer look and snap a photo—you’ve probably just encountered Xylaria polymorpha, the oddly named and even odder-looking Dead Man’s Fingers. While the “dead” part of the name might send a shiver down your spine, beyond the spooky surface lies a fascinating and harmless organism that quietly helps keep the forest alive.