The Courier & Advertiser (Fife Edition)
Autumn heralded by harebells
While climbing Meall nan Tarmachan above Loch Tay, Keith discovers a beautiful but sure sign that summer is coming to a close
Awildflower should not make one feel sad, but I felt a touch melancholy on discovering my first harebells of the year because it was a sure sign that summer was nearing its end.
It seemed like only yesterday when spring was in full flow, with its bird song and flowering violets, lesser celandines and primroses carpeting the ground in a blaze of joyous colour.
But now the song has gone, and the late summer flowers are in bloom – a herald to the approach of autumn.
I was climbing Meall nan Tarmachan above Loch Tay and harebells abounded in profusion. However, my wistful feelings on seeing them were fleeting, for they are such beautiful flowers.
Besides, the thought of autumn should lift the heart, for it is a wonderful season brimming with colour and a time when the air rings to the calls of the wild geese.
I stopped a while to examine a clump of harebells, appreciating the perfection of their pastel-blue bell-shaped flowers, which nodded gently in the breeze.
Often known in Scotland as bluebells, they are shrouded in folklore, and carry a host of other magical names including witches’ thimbles and fairy bells.
Around me, numerous other wildflowers danced in the summer wind.
The delicate yellow blooms of tormentil were everywhere, the petals on each flower arranged like a Maltese cross. In times long past, a red dye was extracted from their roots. The dried roots also had medicinal uses, including treating mouth infections and sunburn.
On a damp flush, a sea of bog asphodel prospered, their yellow star-flowers arranged on short spikes.
The scientific name ossifragum – bone-breaker – derives from the belief that sheep which ate the plant would end up with brittle bones. The reality is that bog asphodel grows in calciumpoor soils, which is the underlying cause of fragile sheep bones, rather than the plant itself.
Nearby the white-powdered blooms of heath bedstraw patterned the ground, along with the purple richness of wild thyme. I was so taken by these wildflowers that I returned a couple of days later to climb nearby Beinn Ghlas and Ben Lawers – two mountains renowned for their Arctic-alpine flora.
Despite being late July, the weather on the summit of Ben Lawers was atrocious, with a swirling cold wind.
On my way down, a white glimmering shone out from a rocky crevice. It was a diminutive flower known as alpine mouse-ear, one of the flower specialities of these high hills.
Lower down on the northern flank of Beinn Ghlas, another gem gleamed by the edge of a grassy tussock. It was starry saxifrage; its intricate beauty of red anthers and yellow spots on the pale petals drawing my breath away.
These hills are one of Scotland’s natural wonders, where floral surprises abound at every turn, and with a spring in my step, I continued my descent.
Ben Lawers is home to several of Scotland’s rarest wildflowers, including alpine gentian, Highland saxifrage and mountain sandwort. The area is also important for rare mosses and lichens. Please adhere to government guidelines in all outdoor activities.