THE GINGER

While nature bloomed in spring and the signs point to a great summer ahead, the spectre of ash dieback is casting a shadow over the countryside

Iwouldn’t say spring is my favourite season. Actually, I’m not sure if I have any such thing at all, being lucky enough to have a character that sees the positives in the outdoors no matter what the time of year. However, I do marvel at the beauty of spring. I’m not sure the colours from the tops of the trees down to the bulbs on the ground can be beaten at any other time of the year. Simply stunning. What does get me is that feeling of the new start – we’ve planned and prepared over the winter months and now we’re off on the latest gardening adventure.

I particularly like the foliage of plants being so green and lush, looking so clean and fresh, yet to have been battered by winds, scorched by the sun or nibbled by wildlife.

It felt like a windy spring this year. I guess the weather folks would tell us the jet stream is hovering somewhere above us, which brings in this unsettled weather, supplying heavy showers but also cooler spells.

As I was taking the journey up to Aberdeen to film my latest stint on Beechgrove, I could see all the crops in the field were looking good and the first of the farmers’ tatties were bursting through the ground so, on the whole, it looks as if the growing conditions have been pretty good, with the near right amount of rain, heat and sun.

Scanning the little woods and lines of trees as I went up the dual carriageway, though, one sight that was sad to see was the continuing slow demise and suffering of our native ash trees.

They’re suffering from a disease called ash dieback, which originated in Asia but does not cause major problems to their own ash tree populations as they have evolved over time to live with this, forming a natural defence.

It took thousands of years for this balance to occur, and with ash dieback first recorded in the UK a decade ago, ours have simply not had the same time to evolve.

The spores of this fungus can be blown in the wind, making it easy to transfer from tree to tree. It’s possible it could have entered our shores this way from Europe.

However, as we were importing ash saplings from infected parts of the continent for planting here, it doesn’t seem unreasonable to think this was how ash dieback got in.

If you’re not familiar with the ash tree, they are fairly easy to identify at the moment due to their struggling condition, their sparsely clothed branches standing out from all the other healthy deciduous trees around them in our towns, parks and countryside.

Normally, we would see the new season’s growth appear from the tips of branches, but examining them just now, we can see this happening further down the trunk. Called epicormic growth, this is a usual response from a tree during times of stress.

I feel really upset to think that this tree species could disappear completely from our landscape, that never again in my lifetime will I go out for a walk and see an ash tree.

I’m clinging on to the hope of the experts who suggest that 20% of the ash population in the UK may be able to survive, and from this a strain of ash trees that are tolerant to the dieback fungus will emerge, helping to save this tree and protect the wildlife that relies on it.

A planting study based on this has already begun in Hampshire, where 3,000 saplings have been planted, propagated from the shoots of trees that were already showing signs of disease tolerance.

These will be monitored for five years, with hope that from this, saplings will be identified to be truly tolerant.

How this will affect one of our plant lore sayings remains to be seen.

“If the oak is out before the ash, then we’ll only have a splash. If the ash is out before the oak, we shall surely have a soak.”

I’ve been out and had a look and I would say that the oak trees where I am are in leaf before the ash, so I’ve unpacked the shorts and looked out the factor ginger sun cream.

My only concern is if the ash trees’ poor health has affected their energy levels, causing them a sluggish start to their season. Time will tell.

Another saying for this time of year is centred around the hawthorn tree, Crataegus monogyna: “Ne’er cast a clout, till May be out” is basically saying to us Scots: “Dinnae pit yer winter jaicket awa ’til May is o’er.”

There’s debate whether this refers to the month of May or, as us gardeners prefer, to the sweetly scented, white flowers. As they come out, this is said to herald the start of the summer proper.

The countryside hawthorn hedges are in full display now, attracting birds and other wildlife.

There we go then. The trees are telling us it’s going to be a great summer starting from now. I hope this is not my Michael

Fish moment…

Potatoes are starting to sprout across the country as summer sets in.

UNDER THREAT: Ash trees are being devastated by ash dieback.