AS I sit writing this from my office window high above the Firth of Forth the clouds are scudding across the sky in a wind that is, not untypically, gusting at 60 mph.

My thoughts stray to the last week in similar weather conditions when my Green (plastic) wheelie-bin was due for collection and I give a wee shudder.

I must have presented a pretty awful sight as I danced about the street like a demented footballer trying to trap, milk bottles, yoghurt cartons and the like – the contents of my neighbour’s plastic refuse with my baffied feet.

Eventually after gathering as much as I could I moved their and my own bin, away from the kerb and wedged them against the wall with fingers crossed lest the bin men wouldn’t accept this departure from recommended practice.

I am comforted by the thought that somewhere the highly paid civil servant who dreamed up the idea of putting a few kilos of light plastic in equally lightweight bins (in a country where winds regularly blow 40-ton trucks on their side) is preparing him/herself to collect their medal for services to the British Empire for recycling to protect the environment.

The amount of plastic trash propelled flying about it’s likely that some of it will reach far-flung countries that were once part of our vast empire.

Tom Minogue,

94 Victoria Terrace, Dunfermline.