Peake-o-matic

Here I grow,
Upon a log-
Small and black and white.
Protuding into the darkness
On Halloween night.

Not sure about my genus,
Though I've looked through the leaves.
I'd try the mighty google
But I have trouble with the keys.

So I'll just keep on growing,
So quiet and so slowly-
While all around me chase their tales
I'm cool with being lowly.