As I made my way along the walkway and cycle path that runs from Menstrie and past Tullibody and towards Cambus, nature’s rich harvest shone out at me in the form of glistening berries.
Rosehips, haws, elder berries, and brambles all hung heavy from bushes by the side of the track.
The spring and summer have been relatively dry this year, which was borne out by the brambles, which didn’t seem as full and plump as in previous years.
Although, on further reflection, this might be due to the brambles by Menstrie being a small-fruiting variety.
The bramble is one of Britain’s most diverse plants, there being hundreds of different varieties with subtle differences, including the taste, size, and fruiting time of the berries.
Rosehips – the fruits of dog rose – also adorned the walkway edge, and as a child, I recall peeling away their thick red skins to collect the seeds within, which had the capacity to cause discomfort similar to that of itching powder when sneakily placed in my brother’s clothing.
These hips can be used to make tea and jelly, and generations of children have been brought up on the syrup, which is rich in vitamin C.
Further on, a greenfinch caught my eye perched on an elder bush.
When I was a youngster in the 1970s, greenfinches were amongst the commonest visitors to our garden feeder that contained peanuts.
They were bold and brassy and always quick to chase away other birds that came too close.
But they are much less common now, the main reason being down to the infectious disease, trichomonosis, which has taken a toll on the population over the last 20 years or so.
It is a well-known disease in pigeons and doves but which has made the transmission jump to finches.
Birds suffering from trichomonosis often look lethargic and have trouble in feeding and breathing.
With greenfinches now being scarce, I especially miss the spectacular spring courtship display of the male bird, for when the mood takes him, usually when it is sunny, he will sing in the air with wings fluttering in slow and exaggerated beats.
Truth be told, he looks like a large butterfly.
The poet Francis Duggan described the song of the greenfinch as ‘the beauty born of nature for us all to enjoy’.
Although not all of the greenfinch’s repertoire is one of musical elegance, for at other times he has a most distinctive drawn-out call similar to the sound of a fishing line being drawn from a reel.
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