After weeks of storm-force winds and heavy skies, the sharp glare of the morning sun picks out every detail of the out-sized bronze statue of Scotland's most famous king, and fine shadows etch out the heavy, masculine features, chainmail and coronet of Robert the Bruce.
As her energetic terriers Benny and Buddy squabble, nipping and harassing half a dozen other spaniels and terriers tearing after tennis balls on the softly sloping hill that marks the Battle of Bannockburn, Gail NcNeill looks up at the greatest hero of Scottish independence and grimaces.
McNeill, a 47-year-old health worker, lives in Bannockburn, a comfortable suburb of bungalows and neat semis on the outskirts of Stirling, and is proud of it. She seems proud, too, that tens of thousands of tourists visit the park each year to see this icon of Scottish nationalism and the sadly decrepit concrete memorial nearby to the country's most celebrated victory over the English, in 1314. "There's so much heritage here," she remarks.
In a little over two years' time, Bannockburn will be the focus of much more than trophy-hunting tourists, expatriates on a cultural pilgrimage and casual patriots. In 2014, it will be the 700th anniversary of Bruce's rout of Edward II's army on the nearby plain. Ordinarily, that would be cause enough for celebrations for many Scots and the vast diaspora overseas.
Four days ago, 2014 was given an additional, startling resonance by Alex Salmond, Scotland's first minister. Later that year, probably in October, 4 million Scots will likely be asked to vote in a referendum on whether Scotland's 300-year-old political union with England should end; potentially provoking the greatest constitutional crisis in the United Kingdom's history.
And it is this that leaves McNeill unnerved. "I think what Alex Salmond is doing is, he's waiting until 2014 because this is going to be a major part of it; 700 years from the Battle of Bannockburn and people will feel very patriotic but may make the wrong vote," she says.
"How can we walk away from something so successful? We've been part of Britain for such a long time. I used to be really for independence, but I don't think we can go it alone, to be honest. When you look at the armed forces, how secure would our country be? There's the economy, too. Jobs. Are companies going to invest in our country in future as we're going to be independent?"
McNeill feels "really quite undecided" but veers towards voting no in the referendum. While support for independence is edging upwards, nudging over 35% in some surveys, all opinion polls still put her in the majority. And for a large majority of voters, it is the economy that weighs most heavily.
McNeill's hospital is suffering already from deep cuts, but she fears most for her adult children. They are casualties of Scotland's worsening youth unemployment; more than 100,000 under-24-year-olds are currently out of work. "My son, he's 23. He's done an apprenticeship but at the moment he's doing absolutely nothing, and there's not a lot of future for him at the moment," she says. "My daughter is 20, and she's away working in holiday camps in England. She could come back up here, but there's absolutely nothing for her. She's done everything, she's tried her hardest."
Christine McCaffery, another dog-walker enjoying the brilliant sunshine at the memorial, has other grievances. A passionate Catholic and Celtic season ticket holder, McCaffery is furious about Salmond's highly controversial drive to further penalise religious and sectarian chants at football matches.
So much so, it is making her reconsider voting for independence. She fears that independence could see religious divisions between Catholics and Protestants in Scotland deepen, yet unlike McNeill, she is an upfront, even strident nationalist with republican tendencies.
"I would leave England at the drop of a hat; always have thought that. I don't class myself as British. I'm Scottish," she says. "It's not that I dislike England, but I think England takes everything from our country. I don't like the Union Jack; they're not my royal family. I don't dislike the Queen, but she's not my queen."
Yet McCaffery also betrays some of the tensions and complexities, critics would say contradictions, in modern Scottish nationalism. There are some emblematic British institutions she would rather keep. She disavows the armed forces – she raises the Iraq and Afghanistan invasions – but likes the Remembrance day poppy, symbol of the Royal British Legion.
"I would take the pound," she adds quickly. "I don't want the euro. The euro is falling apart, for a kick-off. It's your identity, isn't it?"
For the vast majority of Scots, this seems to be a red-line issue. Few wish to leave the European Union, but no one wants the euro. Many experts believe that an independent Scotland would, under the Lisbon treaty, have to accept the euro if it joined the EU. It was no accident that George Osborne, the chancellor, raised doubts as to whether Scotland could retain sterling after independence in an ITN interview on Thursday evening.
In the city of Stirling, even Robert Scott, 45, a committed nationalist who used to vote Labour, balks at the thought of giving up the pound. A slight man with pepper-grey hair, Scott talks quickly as his scissors dart around a customer's hair in the Barton Street barbers.
"I think the way the euro is, no one wants to go into the euro," he says. "I think the people of Europe would rather get out of the euro if they could."
But what about Scotland no longer having the BBC, an institution effectively established by a Scot, Lord Reith, or the UK armed forces? (The Scottish National party has spoken of setting up Scottish television stations, and argues that its armed forces after independence would mirror those in Ireland or Norway; small standing armies designed for territorial defence, not post-colonial overseas wars.) "Why should we lose any of them? We've not got to lose everything. There could always be a Scottish armed forces. An independent Scotland is still going to be part of the British Isles and still have the Queen."
The one thing Scott would give up would be nuclear weapons; Scotland is now home to the UK's entire nuclear submarine fleet, including the Trident weapon system, at Faslane on the Clyde. That remains one of the greatest nationalist grievances. But on those other symbols, Scott, like the SNP leadership, insists independence will be a gentle separation; Scotland and England should still share many institutions.
He shrugs when asked whether the referendum causes him any anxiety. "No, it doesn't really. This is going to make history. We're no' going to go back to fighting the English, are we?," he asks rhetorically, adding, with a small grin, "You never know, mind you."
Close to the city's sheriff court, John Kelly, 23, a shift manager in a local McDonald's restaurant, believes the economic impact of independence is exaggerated. "I just don't think it would be as bad a thing as people make out. I think any harm it would do to the economy would be fairly small," he says, as he walked into town with his 14-month-old daughter Abbie and partner Emma Currie.
He plans to vote yes to independence, although the Bannockburn references had passed him by. "I genuinely wouldn't have known it was the 700th anniversary if I hadn't looked at the news yesterday," he says.
Another fan of the pound, he declares himself "fairly indifferent" to the monarchy. But one prime motivation for Kelly – and this issue is something the SNP believe the UK government critically misunderstands – is that Scotland voted against the two parties now in control at Westminster, the Tories and Liberal Democrats, at the last UK general election. The Lib Dems' popularity in particular has since slumped dramatically.
Kelly is one of the soft nationalists whom Salmond hopes to capture, if he can, by posing three questions at the referendum: maintain the status quo, full independence, and a halfway-house alternative: far greater powers for the Scottish parliament while staying within the UK, the option known as "devo max" or "devo plus". Many opinion surveys suggest that around two-thirds of Scots favour this.
"I would be happy at least if we ended up with more devolved powers," he said. "I find it quite weird that Scotland is governed by a government we didn't vote in. Basically, if Scotland voted completely differently from England, I don't see why the powers should be shared between the two of them."
Outside Marks & Spencer, Pam and John Nicholls, married for 47 years, appear to be in that middle ground of voters whom the SNP believes are "willing to be persuaded". Pam, 68, a retired secretary, is English and has, like many resident in Scotland, encountered anti-English racism, yet is undecided about independence. "I'm not sure. I'm just listening to both sides of the argument at the moment," she says. "I can see the Scottish side of it."
But it does cause some friction with their extended family in England. John, a retired senior prison officer and a Scot, listened closely to the idea of the "social union" that Salmond insists will remain intact, even blossom, between England and an independent Scotland. But, fundamentally, he opposes independence, despite the in-laws.
"I have relations down there and my brother-in-law says to me, 'Maybe we should built Hadrian's wall back up and keep you lot up there.' I say, 'Well, what are you going to do without our oil?'" Independence, he believes, will harm Scotland's relationship with England far more than many Scots realise. "The English don't like us, no matter what you say, and every chance they get, they put the dig in."
Fundamentally, John does not, he says, trust Salmond. "My experience of Alex Salmond is he's a very charismatic guy and he talks a fantastic job but a lot of the stuff that he promises never comes to fruition; he has always got some great reasons or excuses and people to blame."
The message from Stirling appears both simple and complex. The voters are primarily concerned with their material lives: ideology seems to play little part in their thinking. And there are deep, significant bonds and shared institutions connecting the two countries which the nationalists will have to approach very carefully indeed if they wish to win.
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