They were each just under an inch long, a bit sticky to the touch, fringed and connected with white tendrils; the surface looked papery. There were no others anywhere on the logs around.
One looked as if it had been damaged. I prodded the other one with a stick, and it split apart.
There was nothing inside but this brown, doughy mass. The skin surrounded the whole thing; there was no stalk.
I don't know what they are. They remind me of a puffball, in the skin and the internal lack of features, but the shape and attachment to the log don't fit. They're not in my mushroom books.
The never-ending variety of living things always amazes me.