Finding a fantastic blanket of bluebells is something I have ticked off my list so many times now, and for every year I have sought them out, I have read ten blog posts about them online.
But when, every Spring, they appear like a grand finale at the end of a lengthy walk, I never fail to say ‘wow!’ and reach for my camera. I was quite alone, this time – except for Bea of course – but it felt pretty amazing to experience this year’s bluebells uninterrupted, and understand why our ancestors thought that such a magical display must have been put there by the fairies. I think they may have been right.
It’s been a particularly good year for my favourite woodland flowers. I’ve spotted three other clusters this month, including one I have to take tiny, fleeting glances at every morning as I drive past them on my way into work. When I eat my lunch outside, in a blizzard of pink blossom, I try to look at other people going past, to see whether they’re noticing them too. So far the score is zero.
The best bluebell moment this time, however, was losing Bea momentarily only to find her, stock still and staring at something close by. It turns out that foxes like to enjoy the bluebells also, and this one even had a blue glow under his chin. This time, though, it wasn’t to be a blog-worthy moment… just one to be enjoyed fleetingly, and then, like this magical bluebell show, it was gone.