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The sun is shining and a cool breeze is coaxing the leaves from the Angus trees today. Mither's house looks out onto Brechin's public park, a vast green expanse that has probably been the one constant in my life over its first 26 years.

My grandparents first moved into this house in 1963, and it is the one place on earth which reminds me most of my childhood. Apparently I took my first tentative steps on the grass across the road from the house. I remember staying with my grandparents in the warm summer of 1990, watching Italy v Argentina in the World Cup semi-final before recreating the celebrations of Diego Maradona and Salvatore Schillachi using sapling trees as replacement goalposts.

This park has it all: a hill ideal for sledging in winter and rolling Easter eggs in spring; hedges which make ideal hiding places during marathon Man Hunt sessions; a BMX track and monkey bars that I spent a whole summer attempting to master to no avail.

There are relics of bygone days: a towering concrete war memorial, a band stand practically unused for its original purpose in the past 30 years and an elaborate lions head fountain that has long since run dry and been turned into a flower bed.

In my first quarter century, much has changed. I hope Brechin Public Park never does.