One of my favorite place to walk through was the hill above the Whinhill train station which looms over Drumfrochar road and which affords beautiful vistas over Greenock and the Clyde.

Strolling along the distinct or half erased paths, passing through small sections of woods where cherry trees, hawthorns, beeches or birches thrive amidst a wilderness of of lush vegetation undergrowth never ceased, to amaze me as there was always something to look at.

This particular September day was no different. As the summer was slowly coming to an end, vivid red berries adorned the branches of the hawthorn from whom hung pale green laces of Spanish moss, in an eerie vision of Christmas time. The foliage of the broad leaved trees gradually turned to a fiery hue and the thick bramble bushes groaned under the weight of their plump ebony fruits.

The next few hours were spent exploring parts of the Greenock cemetery. It was a quiet and pleasant walk in the dappled light from the canopy of various trees that stood like noble  and silent guardians over the patchwork of tombstone of all ages and shapes. Now and then, under the shade of an ancient oak or copper beach, a squirrel could be seen scurrying out of an undergrowth vegetation and climbing up a gnarled tree.