Committed urban types, happily back in London after a rare foray into rural parts, are said to be worried that the early sightings (and tastings) of ripe blackberries are harbingers of early-onset climate change. The panic was enhanced, no doubt, because a favourite store, Waitrose, is also full of the bulbous, glistening, black berries.
Concerns reached the newspapers the other day. Happily, someone was eventually found with enough nous to know that there is huge variation in the ripening times (and sizes) of summer fruit – something most of us safely beyond the North Circular Road already knew. I blame all that expensive public school education: too much Cicero and Seneca at the expense of common science.
Wish I'd known the summer fruit was coming early this year - the birds clearly got the memo and I've got nothing left!