Far away in the distance we heard the sounds of throbbing machines and buzzing chain saws. Then in scenes reminiscent of Bambi's climax (?) and the first chapter of Watership Down, hundreds of tiny animals ran past chattering and squealing and recounting tales of horror and home wrecking. The (very) birds of the air took to the (very) sky and buggered off somewhere else as this thunderous forestry apocalypse took place before our (very) eyes. In a mere matter of days all the tall trees were cut, the ground was cleared and a scorched earth policy undertaken and enacted (not as good as a Scotch Egg Policy). Fair enough, now the twin cities of Cumbernauld, Cartagena and Cairo will receive fine gifts of real Christmas trees and bundles of pungent Yule logs thanks to the generosity of the people of Scotland and our top quality rain. As for us, we now get 9.5% more sunlight, 14% more infestation and a nice pine smell in the upstairs bathroom. Win, win, win.