Hello and welcome to Stories of Scotland, a cornucopia of Scottish history, folklore and turnips.

I'm Jenny, your harvest queen.

And I'm Annie, your turnip pulling archivist.

You can say that again.

Do I don't even need to say it again?

No.

And in this episode, as part of our Halloween season,

we're going to take a break from spooky stories to celebrate the harvest season.

Yay!

And this is one of my favourite times of the year.

We have a glut of apples in our garden, the rhubarb is finally ready to be made into crumble,

and there are sharp and sweet brambles in all kinds of terrain, from our local park to the forests on the cusp of our beautiful city of Inverness.

It's a time of plenty. I love to pick the brambles and all the mushrooms that pop up everywhere. The leaves are turning to stunning

shades of sunset and just looking at them makes me feel like a wee warm fire is burning inside of me,

especially when I crunch on them. You sound like you're eating them and not stepping on them

their journey. It's harvest seasoning, Annie. Well, let's crunch on over into the

harvest with a delightful harvesting poem from the Elgin Courier in 1854. It is harvest. It is harvest.

Fruitful season of delight. Over the hills, among the valleys,

have the prospects glad the sight. Ply the scythe and ply the sickle, blooming maiden,

stall warts swain. Frames wax stronger, hearts grow nobler, reaping the golden grain.

It is harvest! It is harvest!

Garner up the precious corn.

...