NESTLED in the heart of Clackmannanshire lies the hamlet of Linn Mill, where a nearby track leads down to a delightful tumbling waterfall on the River Black Devon.

This waterfall is a dark and mysterious place that is dominated by trees and high embankments, and as such, is a haven for shade and moisture-loving liverworts that cling to the rocky edges in a velvety carpet of green.

Liverworts are simple and primitive plants that do not develop seeds or flowers, but instead produce spores for reproduction. In a rocky cleft, I also find a clump of hart’s-tongue fern – another specialist of damp, shady environments.

But there is colour here, too, and on a protruding dead branch by the large pool at the bottom of the falls, sits a grey wagtail, which frequently flutters-up to catch small flies darting above.

Its name is a bit of misnomer because the grey wagtail’s plumage features more yellow than grey, and it is without doubt one of our most stunning birds.

I leave the waterfall and then head along a track that leads towards Gartmorn Dam. Here, a flock of yellowhammers bounds along a hedgerow, and rooks and jackdaws tumble above nearby sheep pasture on black bat-like wings.

Both species like to flock together at this time of year. Why so, I’m unsure, but perhaps it’s because the greater the size of the flock, the better the chance of spotting danger.

Soon, I reach the shore of Gartmorn Dam where out on the water groups of mallards and tufted ducks had congregated; a tranquil scene of waterfowl feeding and resting against a background of rolling farmland and patchwork woodland.

As I stood there, it was hard to imagine anywhere else in the world I would rather be.

@BroomfieldKeith