Forever lying in the shadow of the larger River Devon, the Black Devon is the Wee County’s forgotten river. Although a relatively small and shallow water course, it does have a fantastic natural richness and last week I took a wander down one of its remoter stretches near Forestmill.

As I came upon the river after a short walk through thick pine woods, I could see the ripples of rising brown trout in a languid pool. The Black Devon doesn’t appear to be fast flowing or big enough to be a river of any interest to trout anglers and the rising fish were certainly small. But there were enough around to make one think that otters and mink must surely haunt the Black Devon at times. Sea trout are said to enter the lower reaches of the river.

I sat on the bank for awhile next to a large clump of white-flowering wood sorrel. Over the pool was a dancing cloud of mayflies, which were obviously the source of the excitement for the feeding trout. Most species of mayfly spend a year or two as an underwater nymph before miraculously ‘hatching’ or emerging as delicate flies that live for only a day or two. But this gives them just enough time to mate in the air and deposit their eggs into the water to ensure the continuation of the lifecycle.

As I looked further upstream, a grey wagtail alighted on a fallen tree trunk. If ever there was a misnomer, then it surely must apply to the grey wagtail, for rather than being drab as the name suggests, it is in fact one of our most colourful birds, especially the male with his most striking yellow underparts. Although grey wagtails are quite flighty birds when disturbed, they will soon alight again, often on a boulder in the middle of the stream.

Dusk was falling and it was now time to head home, but my appetite had been whetted by this fine little river. And one should never forget the important role the Black Devon has played in Clackmannanshire’s history, with its waters being diverted by a lade in the 18th century to create Gartmorn Dam so as to power the pumps for nearby mines.