A Bluebell Walk


We seemed to spend last weekend dodging rain showers, but given the brief sunny interlude on Sunday morning it seemed churlish not to get out of the house and go for a walk. We took a route that I’d discovered with a friend last week, mainly on account of the vast carpets of bluebells, but also because it affords some amazing views over the local countryside and I really wanted my husband and kids to see it all for themselves.

Bluebell Walk

There is something so magical about seeing our native bluebells (Hyacinthoides non-scripta) growing in the wild, and the ones we saw did not disappoint; great ribbons of blue cutting through the dappled shade, their tiny fairy-hat flowers delicately scenting the air.

There were foraging opportunities aplenty too; my son came home with a couple of fistfuls of wild garlic and we’ve earmarked a spot where wild strawberries grow in the hedgerow and hope to return to pick some soon. That is, if the birds haven’t got there first.

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