THIS week's Diary comes from the central Highlands of Scotland where we spent a few days in an isolated and idyllic thatched cottage near the foot of Glen Lyon, not far from the beautiful Loch Tay.

With no television or clock to distract us, household water from a spring, buzzards soaring overhead and a handsome white stag in a nearby field, we made the most of a unique opportunity to explore the region.

Nearby was the famous Fortingall Yew, believed by some experts to be the oldest living thing in the world. There are various estimates of the tree's age - it is certainly more than 3,000 years old, while the official estimate is 5,000, although some claim it may be even 9,500 years old. It is not possible to use the traditional method of gauging the tree's age by counting its rings or measuring the girth of the trunk, because it is missing. Down the years, people have removed souvenirs or cut off branches for ritual use at funerals and youths even lit fires inside the trunk.

And yet the tree survived. Yews do not behave as other trees, but like the hazel, bracken or wood anemone, they renew themselves almost indefinitely by rooting outwards. New shoots rise from those roots and, in this case, the yew has two trunks side by side, both males, and both from the original root-stock.

Today, the tree is supported by props and surrounded by a wall with iron gates to prevent further damage, although some of its branches have died within the last two centuries. A wonderful local legend is that the infant Pontius Pilate played beneath this tree. He was the son of a Roman officer and a local girl, but was taken back to Rome to later achieve a dubious kind of fame. That story has never been proved false.

We took another step into the past by visiting a crannog, a type of ancient loch dwelling found in Ireland and Scotland.

Some 5,000 years ago, crannogs were built off-shore as defensive homesteads and accommodated a large family and their livestock. They were built and occupied until as late as the seventeenth century. Modern underwater archaeologists have found the remains of several crannogs with remarkably fresh remains such as plants, utensils, food and even cloth, all preserved in the cold, peaty water. There was even an ancient butter dish, with the butter still adhering to the inside, and lots of hazel nut shells and cherry stones.

We visited a reconstructed crannog near Kenmore. It is circular with a thatched and steeply sloping roof. It has been built using an ancient and authentic method of construction upon alder and oak piles driven into the bed of the loch. The floor is made from alder, the walls are of wattle and the roof thatched with reeds. Inside the floor is covered with bracken, there is a central fireplace on stones and sleeping compartments, both at floor level and aloft. Built several feet above water level, it is approached by a gangway, part of which can be raised like a drawbridge for defensive reasons.

There are many crannogs under Scottish lochs (15 in Loch Tay alone) and many sites can be identified because they now form tree-covered islands. Some are currently being excavated to reveal astonishing evidence of the ancient past.

We then visited the Ben Lawers nature reserve. Ben Lawers (1,214m high) is a massive mountain overlooking Loch Tay, and although we did not reach the summit due to a shortage of time, we struggled up the slopes towards Beinn Ghlas. This mountain range is known for its rare wild flowers and is unique in that the higher slopes have been fenced off against deer and sheep. I know of no other mountain which is protected in this way, but the outcome is that rare plants are flourishing, along with a variety of mosses and other growths which I could not identify. And the bilberries were wonderful!

One feature of these mountains, apart from their Gaelic names, is the number of shielings on the slopes. These are clusters of small stone shelters with thatched or stone roofs. Shepherds used them - and still use them - during the summer months to protect their flocks as the animals move higher into the hills. The shepherds sleep here overnight and even hikers and mountaineers make good use of the shielings.

No tour of the Highlands is complete without a visit to a whisky distillery and we visited two, a large one and then the smallest in Scotland with only three workers.

This is at Edradour near Pitlochry, where the soft local spring water is put to extremely good use! We learned about the early battles with Excise men when more than 14,000 illicit stills were operating in the glens - and, even now, tax forms 66pc of the cost of a bottle of whisky. As one Scotsman said: "Moderation is vital when drinking whisky. Ten or 12 glasses is reasonable refreshment; after that, it's mere drinking."

We also toured Blair Atholl Castle and arrived in Pitlochry to find the season's final Highland Games in boisterous progress to the sound of bagpipes.

Following my recent notes about the lore of thunder and lightning (D&S, Sept 3), I have received a letter from a reader in Chester le Street.

In my column I referred to the old belief that it is safe to shelter beneath an oak during a thunderstorm, but my correspondent has produced an old verse which suggests the opposite. The verse comes from his wife's childhood and goes: "Avoid the oak, it draws the stroke; beware the ash, it courts the flash; creep under the thorn, that will keep you from harm."

In the world of superstition there are often direct opposites in belief in different parts of the country - for example, in many areas of England it was thought lucky to meet a black cat while travelling, whereas in the East Riding of Yorkshire, it was considered unlucky. On the other hand, meeting a white cat while travelling was widely thought to be a sign of bad luck, except in America, where it was regarded as very lucky indeed.

As far as my correspondent's verse is concerned, the thorn in question is almost certainly the hawthorn because it was a holy tree in both pagan and Christian legends. Christ's crown of thorns was thought to have been made from the hawthorn, there is the famous Glastonbury Thorn which is supposed to bloom on Christmas Day and it was believed for centuries in this country that a hawthorn planted close to a dwelling house was a form of protection against lightning.

Not surprisingly, it was also thought unlucky to cut down a hawthorn, although some people considered it unlucky to bring its white blossom into the house.

However, it seems it was acceptable to bring in the twigs. In many districts, householders would gather hawthorn twigs and make them into a globe which was hung inside the house to protect it against fire. In some areas, hawthorn picked on Ascension Day was considered the strongest charm, although some would collect it on New Year's Day when the old globe was discarded. In those cases, at dawn on New Year's Day, the old globe had to be taken outside and set on fire. This was known as Burning the Bush. I think some considered the hawthorn globe represented the crown of thorns, hence the strange mixture of religion and superstition.

I thank my correspondent for raising this interesting topic.

Continuing the subject of superstition, there is an old belief in Yorkshire which says that if the leaves hang onto the branches in October and wither without falling, then a frosty winter with a lot of snow is forecast.

It is also said that, for every mist in October, there will be a snowfall in the coming winter. The density of the fog determines whether the resultant snowfall will be light or heavy. In rural areas, another sign of forthcoming heavy snow is the barking of foxes during October.

October is often a very fine and sunny month, with one old piece of lore saying that October always has 21 fine days. A warm October heralds a cold February, but if October and November are cool, then we can expect the following January and February to be mild. Or so it is thought!

And finally, tomorrow is the feast day of St Leger, who was a French bishop in AD 670. He has nothing to do with a horse race of that name