The Aber Yew

On the walk to the loch the other morning I noticed a number of yew seeds that had fallen from this old yew.  The yew is a very slow growing tree and this one is reputed to be several hundred years old.  The leaflet on the Aber path tells the story associated with the tree and describes how the yew tree was a gathering point for the cattle that were once an important part of life in the township. 

"Glens near the north of Loch Lomond were home to two clans - the Macfarlanes and the Macgregors - who were keen cattle rustlers. Whenever livestock was stolen, the local landowner had to pay his tenants for their losses. Tiring of this expense, William Cochrane of Kilmaronock signed-over the local farmlands to his tenants in the late 1600s, in return for modest payment. Once the small farmers (all of whom were fairly poor) owned the land, the cattle raids stopped!

For more than a century after that, the ‘Aber Lairds’, as the small farmers were 

known, worked the land around here. Each morning, a herdsman would blow a horn beside the yew to muster the Aber cattle. Then he’d take them to the common 

grazings on the Ring, close to the eastern end of this walk. In the evening, more 

blasts of the horn would summon the Aber folk to collect their livestock." 

This history makes it all the more distressing to see the old tree dying.  However, the fact that it has still managed to produce some seeds provides an opportunity for it to continue.  I collected several of the seeds with their fleshy red aril and have been researching the best way to propagate them.  It could take some time as yew seeds can take up to two years to germinate.  Firstly I need to simulate the stomach of a thrush or blackbird and provide some warm damp conditions for a few weeks. Then a harsh winter needs to be created as they go into the bottom of the fridge.  This may need to be repeated if nothing happens next spring.  I just hope I've got the patience and don't forget about them.  I'll report back in a couple of years to see if any of the seeds have sprouted.  Their slow growing nature means that it could be another thirty years before any new plant produces its own seeds.  Definitely a project for the long term.

Happy Brambling

I find the lure of the bramble irresistible and this has been a very good year for blackberries.  The hedgerows are laden with plump purple berries.  The rewards are worth the trials - the scratched hands and stained fingers.
As if the prickles of the bramble weren't weapon enough to deter the picker, they also manage to grow amidst a host of the other well-armed plants.  There is a magnificent crop along the short cut up to the Hall but you need to be well protected.  I fought my way through nettles, hawthorn, dog roses, gorse, thistles and holly to reach the best berries.  This is where a stick comes in handy; although I found the Leki pole not nearly as effective as the old fashioned walking stick with the curved handle for grabbing that best spray of fruit that always seems to be just out of reach.
Once home the brambles have quickly been converted into jelly and blackberry and apple tarts.  I experimented this year and made some little filo tarts in muffin tins.  

Each sheet of filo pastry was cut into four and then two small sheets placed into the muffin tin at an angle to each other.  Layers of apple, blackberries were added with a little sugar (or granulated sweetener) between each layer.  Baked in a hot oven for about ten minutes they were delicious with a small dollop of creme fraiche or ice cream.  This batch didn't last long.
The first batch of jelly that I made was with pure blackberry juice but with the second batch I followed the recipe form the Glasgow Cookbook which includes apples with the berries.  I think I prefer the intensity of flavour of the pure bramble jelly.  It takes me back to my childhood and I still find hot buttered toast with bramble jelly one of life's pleasures.