PLOT LINES

WITH TIM FOSTER

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REMEMBER reading the description of a bottle of fancy wine a few years ago: Australian Chardonnay of fermented eucalyptus leaves strained through the socks of an octogenarian sheep rancher (or something like that).

It went along the lines of 'Crisp and dry with a fruity nose and a wet end.' Well, I know nothing about wine - my elderberry would stun a warthog - but I thought that description matched perfectly the 2025 growing season. A vintage fruit year.

I hope you have had the chance to go for a stroll in the countryside over recent weeks. Turn right at the fly-tipped bathroom suite, bypass the beginnings of the new bypass, cross the scalped fields of the housing development - and have a look at the remaining vegetation. Oak trees loaded with acorns, more than I can ever remember, hawthorns red with berries, keys dangling all over sycamores and the list goes on. Our cultivated fruit has done equally well.

What is going on?