Regular travellers to Ayr will know them. The bridge folk. They wave Saltires at the traffic, and every now and then a driver gives them a honk. Whether it is an ironic honk is unknown, just like their identities, to me at any rate.

Every time I pass I make a mental note to stop one day and ask, but something else is always pressing, a deadline to be somewhere, and the moment passes. The road to Ayr is paved with good intentions.

I thought of the Saltire crew the other day when writing about the 10th anniversary of the Scottish independence referendum. Can you believe that come September 18 it will have been a decade since Scotland was asked the big question?

For some it will be a happy anniversary, for others less so. Maybe you’ve erased it from the memory, but I doubt it. Whether it was bliss in that dawn to be alive, or a right pain in the ask, it was an important shared experience and as such it deserves to be marked.

As part of BBC Scotland’s coverage, Yes/No: Inside the Indyref, the acclaimed three-part documentary from 2019, is to be shown again. Another repeat, but I think you’ll like this one. I watched a few clips online and, my goodness, how quickly it comes flooding back. Jim Murphy on his Irn Bru crate; the Salmond-Darling TV debates; the Nick Robinson stushie and the demo at Pacific Quay; George Osborne’s ultimatum ("If Scotland walks away from the UK, it walks away from the UK pound”); Scotland's Future: Your guide to an independent Scotland - madeleines all.

I laughed again at Jim Murphy’s story about being given a 12-pack of toilet roll as a comment on his stump speech. Still one of the great reviews of all time. But the heart also sank, at some of the not-so-amusing moments when emotions ran too high and things were said that could not be taken back.

Even now, I know of families and friends who won’t go near the subject for fear of verbal war breaking out again. As with the poll tax, Scotland was given first taste of living through a divisive referendum and at times it got rough. The rest of the UK had to wait for the Brexit vote before they could experience the joy of being screamed at by strangers.

Ten years on, asking someone how they voted is a question best avoided in company, especially if drink has been taken. Those who do answer will be judged accordingly, and often wrongly. Speculate at your peril. Do not go down the road of “I bet you voted No” or “You’re a definite Yes” unless you are prepared for the consequences. Offence may and probably will be taken. What fun, eh?

Yet others do have fond memories of the times. As someone says in the documentary, “It was just so enlivening, democracy in action”. Friendships were forged, perhaps there are even indyref babies, conceived in the afterglow of a discussion on currency options in an independent Scotland.

It was nice for Scotland to be the centre of attention, and for something positive as well. Before, foreign journalists and the London press would only venture here to shake their heads at the poverty and early deaths. Or they presented the place as a tartan theme park, all clichéd assumptions catered for. But in the run-up to the indyref Scotland was seen as a happening place. People were switched on and tuned in. They were still dropping dead before their time, but that was one of the many things that would be addressed depending on how the vote went.

So here we are, 10 years on. What do we think? In the words of constitutional scholars and property experts Phil and Kirstie, does Scotland want to love the indyref, or put up a card in Tesco offering it free to a good home?

Opinions will vary. Much depends on how you feel about the last decade, and whether it was better or worse for an indyref taking place. The no vote condemned Scotland to ten more years of a Tory government and a Brexit it did not want. But would a Yes vote have left us adrift, skint and in debt? Was the NHS safer as part of the Union or not? The questions could go on and on. Think of the children. The boredom.

Here is one way of looking at indyref and its aftermath. First, it had to happen. A referendum was not inevitable but it was on the cards. So we voted. But there were 10 points in it, a decent margin in any vote but close for a referendum. A hefty chunk of people on both sides. One side saw a settled will; the other a starting point. So the debate carried on, and on, and on.

As time passed the referendum cast a shadow in which little else could thrive. The day job of any government, to boost the wellbeing of the people, was neglected in favour of an obsession with constitutional arrangements. Nothing worked as well as it should, promises were not kept, incompetence flourished. The referendum that was meant to decide Scotland’s future had instead sent the country into political hibernation. On July 4 just gone, Scotland woke up.

Reminiscing about indyref won’t send us back to those times. Too much water under bridges, too many of the old faces gone from power, and all that. It might reignite a desire for independence in some, or douse the flame in others. The likelihood is that nothing will change. We’ll note the day in passing and move on, the yes camp, the no, the don’t knows and the don’t cares.

According to a list compiled by those who know such things, a 10th anniversary gift should be made out of tin. It is an element that naturally lends itself to new shapes, a handy quality to have. Let’s do this, Scotland. Helmet or tankard, take your pick and let the commiserations and celebrations begin.