All manner of things in the natural world completely out of sync
COUNTRY FILE
THIS is the most unusual year, with all manner of things in the natural world completely out of sync.
A walk across the bog gave rich reward in the quantity (and the quality!) of blackberries that already adorn those arched bramble stems. Some, those in less favourable spots, are holding off for another week or two, but those that are low-lying in south facing, sunny locations are rich and sweet.
And really, now is the time to get out there to gather a few for those pies and pastries that are part of the rhythm of the year. Perhaps I shall make more of that blackberry wine that alarms friends and neighbours!
Late-summer wildflowers such as purple loosetrife and the beautiful harebells are already at or nearing their peak, a couple of weeks ahead of their usual schedule, while our fragrant orchids are already past their best when we should be enjoying them at their best.
But it is probably in the world of trees we see things most awry.
Last night's visit to my favourite trout stream was thoroughly spoiled by the broken carpet of leaves that all but covered the surface of the water. These were properly autumnal – yellow ash and brown willow fallen from the wooded riverbank to remind us to make the most of what is left of our summer.
The ash is partly understandable. Ash dieback has a firm grip of most of these trees. Dead wood forms a halo of sorts around a mass of struggling green. While that flush of foliage gives us hope the trees will survive, the truth is that is shows them to be near the end of their lives, at which time they throw out as many leaves as possible – fighting for breath, if you like.
And as they die back above the ground, so the roots are doing the same out of sight. Another good wind will fell swathes more, leaving more gaps in our woodland.
As well as being the last of Ireland's trees to come into leaf, ash is also the first to drop its leaves in the autumn – or in the summer, in this case.
The willow is another matter. Often in August we see great stretches of brown along the roadside and take it as a sign that days are indeed getting shorter as autumn settles in.
Willow trees suffer from infestations of tiny insects or mites which tap into the leaves to feed on sap, and when their numbers are truly great the entire tree looks as though it is either dead or dying.
On examining a few leaves from scooped from the stream, I think these have some kind of fungal infection that is causing them to wilt and drop from the trees prematurely. There will be mites – it is this disease that has my trout stream filled with leaves so that I cannot fish.
Perhaps the greatest sign of the onset of autumn is the early ripening of mountain ash or rowan and whitebeam that we see on the hillside. It was during the last week of July that I picked a handful of bright red whitebeam fruit, a full month in advance of its normal appearance.
And as for the rowan, while we often see the hills splashed with red by the middle of August, this is yet far too early for such a development.
Does it really matter? It does to the birds that rely on these fruits for winter food. By the time they turn to them, this annual source of sustenance will be gone. We shall see how the rest of the year unfolds.