All it takes sometimes is a reckless click* made on a Twitter post and the once solid fabric of your simple universe is torn and mulched down into cold custard and rendered unrecognizable and untrustworthy. I blame the people who set out the parking lot in the Aldi in Perth, just by the A9 roundabout (I think there may be an M&S and a Tiso branch nearby too). Some wag posted tree pictures on Twitter and I foolishly took the bait and was drawn into the dark world of the Perthshire tree spotters and experts (this may not be a real movement of any kind). Reality then ground to a halt for a few minutes and there were more questions than answers.
To be precise, these seem to be people out there who know a few things about walnut trees, like how they are planted to keep flies away from cattle and how if you split their leaves they smell like Mr Sheen. Yes, tree knowledge goes deep, it's a complex place to visit in the garden or in virtual ways. Not much mention of the nuts themselves despite the fact that they adorn Walnut Whips and other sweets and cakes and things. So I'm now developing a wild opinion that what I thought was a quite fruitful cherry tree in our garden may in fact be a walnut tree furiously bearing walnuts. It might also explain the lack of flies in the garden (and cattle) and the strange, floating odour of cleaning products. I've got evidence now, so which is which?
May all your cherries turn out to be walnuts, and vice versa. Where's William Rushton when you need him?
Turns out it's a Spindle tree from China or thereabouts complete with poison berries (so putrid and evil that they could stun a buffalo) rather any than useful nuts.
*Never let the truth get in the way of a mediocre story.
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