Badenoch, Cairngorms: Graceful as a folk tale queen, they’re throwing out their arms, feathery green and bearing clusters of bright red berries

The early October forest is at the turning point, that enchanted time of year when everything is changing form and colour. It havers, slipping backwards and forwards across the threshold between dark and light, the underworld of woodsy rot and the sky-song of geese, the realms of substance and spirit.

Last night, the stars were fiercely bright and this morning we woke to frost. It still clings to the shadowed hollows of the ground cover and the lacework of spider webs. Higher up, the trees are stirring softly, like a great mystery is coming. The cascading birch boughs are tinged with yellow, the upright aspens a spangling of gold, paper-thin coins trembling against the high blue.