Bonny Bluebells............................

I think every year I must write something about Bluebells. One of my most favourite flowers. A love shared with my Uncle Harold my Dads brother. Harold lived in/on the Isle of White in his later years, he shared with me his poetry and pictures. Shanklin is a beautiful little village in the IOW. On the way, walking to the village to shop he would walk through the woods and loved this time of year when they were a carpet of blue.
For myself, when I went home to England in Springtime it was one of the things I most remember. Driving through country lanes and seeing that carpet of blue unlike any other. The horizon blue and the lime green of new leaves and the blue blue sky.

Unfortunatley I do not have any of my own pictures. There are so many great ones on the web and I have been collecting them for my Facebook page also called Bluebell Woods.. I really enjoy finding new ones. People who follow my page also send me pictures. I am amazed that my posts bring so many good memories for people. They all seem to have similar memories as I do. Walking through the woods enjoying the fragrant air, taking them home for Mum. Now as in this country it is no longer allowed. Not a bad thing as they did not last well and usually by the time I got home with them they were pretty wilted. Best to enjoy them growing. It seems natural though to a child to take that gift to mum.

We used to go for Sunday drives frequently. Something that perhaps were a tradition because of the novelty of having a car. Growing up few people we knew had a car. So Sundays we would go to Ashridge in the Springtime and enjoy the new green ferns and the Blue Bells. Climb the momument and enjoy the view.


When driving through Bedfordshire and surrounding counties it is mostly still small villages and farms. So by choosing the route all one would see would be country. Banks and hedgerows filled with Daffodils, Primroses, Cowslips and BlueBells.

I would love to walk through the woods in the Springtime in the misty early morning. I think next time, if I am lucky enough to go home again, it must be in Springtime.

I don't mind the mist or the rain, I won't shrink.

Some day I must get some for my garden here in Michigan. I know they grow because I have seen them. They may be Spanish Bluebells, but that's better than nothing and won't hurt anything here.

Memories are treasures. Many share these memories, and I enjoy sharing mine.