For months the oak trees have been growing heavy with a mass of acorns. Now those are becoming ripe and falling to the ground. Jays and squirrels are ecstatic at the bounty.
Sweet
chestnuts are also well-laden this year.
The hazels are bearing plenty of nuts too although the squirrels always pillage
them before I get there. Dog roses and
hawthorns are embellishing the hedgerows with hips and haws like blood-red
beads.
A year when
woodland nuts and fruits are especially plentiful is called a mast year. It is the trees’ opportunity to reproduce –
there are so many seeds that the animals and birds cannot possibly eat them
all.
Folklore
says that if seeds and berries are abundant in Autumn, it will be a harsh
winter ahead - God’s way of providing
for the birds and animals. However, weather
patterns show little correlation between abundant Autumns and cold
winters. It’s more likely that the favourable
conditions of the preceding summer are the cause.
But what
always grips me is the exquisite details of these Autumn seeds – the burnished
acorn fitting exactly into its cup. The beech pods like tiny jewel boxes lined
with gold velvet to hold the precious, three-sided seeds. And the horse
chestnut pod, armoured with spikes like a Mediaeval weapon – all to keep the
polished mahogany conker safe inside.
Whether the
folklore is right or not, Autumn certainly looks like the work of a Master Craftsman.
