As the gales began to die down, Algy sat himself up, brushed himself off, and gazed at his lap. He was still feeling rather stunned, but was pleased to see that he was not the only thing that had been knocked out of the rowan tree by the wind. It looked like breakfast time 🙂

The gales raged all day and all night, and well into the next morning, but then the wind fell suddenly, and dropped rapidly down to barely a whisper. Algy, however, did not last anything like that long. It is often said that pride comes before a fall, but in Algy’s case it was greed which was his downfall; he too fell suddenly, and dropped rapidly down to the ground, where he lay, slightly dazed, for quite some time, watching the bright red berries which were still waving about wildly above his head…

By the next morning, it was apparent that another autumn gale was on its way. The wind was already roaring through the trees, but Algy was determined to get some of those luscious red rowan berries before they were all blown away… 

Although the weather in the West Highlands had been exceptionally grey and misty throughout the late spring and summer, with only occasional bursts of sunshine and blue sky, the landscape seemed intent on compensating for the general lack of colour. Even the scrawniest of the rowan trees were laden with bright orange berries this year, and as Algy contemplated the heavy crop of fruit, he was happy to think that there would be plenty left for his friends – like the redwings and fieldfares – who would be arriving for the winter before very long…