Rowan bonanza
By Daniel Butler, author and forager
Autumn is, of course, a time of plenty for wildlife and foragers alike. While there is always something to eat in the British countryside, September and October see ‘peak fruiting’ in our woods, hedgerows and fields.
There is no shortage of rowan berries in the Cambrians this autumn
Photo: Author's own
All wild crops vary widely from year to year, of course. In some cases this is predictable - for example oaks produce bumper acorn crops every two or three years in a process called ‘masting’. The point is that by producing a glut, the trees ensure that at least some acorns manage to geminate successfully. One reason is that animals such as squirrels and jays stash the bounty. Although both are remarkably good at retrieving almost all, inevitably some are overlooked and, of course, nothing is immortal and both rodents and corvids can fall victim to predators such as goshawks.
This year, however, the bumper crop comes in the form of bright red rowan berries - the fruit of the mountain ash. Unfortunately, while these may add a welcome dash of colour to the hedgerows, they are indifferent from a foraging point of view. Yes, you can make them into a jelly to serve with game, but to be honest there are better foraged savoury jellies (spiced crab apple would be my go-to meat condiment).
This year's hedges are laden with glistening rowan berries
(Photo: author's own)
On the bright side, while rowan might make indifferent eating for humans, winter migrants such as fieldfares are far less fastidious and for the next six months will be working their way along the hedges, stripping the mountain ash branches bare.
Visa-less fieldfares flock to Wales from Scandinavia every autumn to take our berries
(Photo: author's own)
According to folklore, a glut of berries foretells a hard winter. Now I can see how the weather over a spring and summer can have a clear impact on the fruiting of mushrooms and berries, but I can’t see how fungi or plants could have the ability to predict the future. This isn’t to say nature can’t be a serious source of scientific weather data. Years of detailed records collected by amateur naturalists are just one way the changing climate can be tracked. The the first great tit clutches, for example, are now a fortnight earlier than two centuries ago. Other species, from trees to insects, are moving north within the British Isles - but all of this is based on retrospective experience. I can’t see how plants or animals can ever predict the weather six months in advance: humans with complex models, satellite-gathered research and super computers certainly can’t.