Yesterday Terri Windling and I walked up to the wood behind her house. She is lucky enough to have a garden that leads straight in to a wood and then on to a tor-ish sort of hill - one of the two hills that overlook our village.
I’ve been on to this particular hill many times but I’ve never approached it from Terri’s garden before. What a magical experience - crossing a little stream, clambering up a steep (really steep) pathway and then coming out into mature forest of oak and beech with the ground below the trees covered in Bluebells and other wild flowers. I know that many or even most of you reading this will never have had the chance to experience the smell of a field of bluebells on a sunny day. The sweet, heady smell is truly intoxicating and the colour is the most illusive blue-y purple. Anyway - it was quite wonderful.
We came across this little troll girl enjoying the bluebells as well. Both she and Tilly the dog are looking at something, but neither Terri nor I could see what it was. No orbs this time as far as I could tell.
Today I drove over the moor and came across field after field of bluebells. The weather has been so cold this spring that the bluebells have held on much, much longer than usual. I think they’ll be at their peak this weekend. Every once in a while you can spot white bluebells. They are few and far between and I never see more than a few in any one field I’m walking in. I choose to believe that these are very special indeed.
And lambs. There are LOTS of lambs on the moor and since they are born slightly later than the ones on lower ground, they are still quite young and SO sweet. Well - see for yourselves.
And last of all, there’s Buster. I had to show you these photos because he looks like a very happy little vampire cat. He IS out all night - maybe he IS a vampire cat. I never question him closely on his comings and goings. He’s very private about it all.
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I miss bluebells. If there's any here in Arkansas, the sun must burn them away too soon for me to find them. Lovely Springs, here in Arkansas, pancake-syrup sweet but too short. I'm used to an English Spring, that lasts for months and might be still around in June. The picture of a field of bluebells did help though. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing your beautiful day!
ReplyDeleteI have always wanted to wander in bluebell woods and across such meadows as you bring us. I may have hundreds of bluebells in my garden but nothing to equal this. I also have them in white and pink but still love the blues the best.
ReplyDeleteWhat, there was only one little troll girl? I would have expected all the troll children to be out and ringing those bells . . .
Wow! Thanks for the view!
ReplyDeleteI've never had the pleasure of walking through a field of bluebells, but from the way you describe it I wish I had! I always daydream of fields of lavender. Anyway, what a pretty little troll girl! I wonder if trolls are as intrigued by humans as we are by them. Maybe she was surprised to see you out on the moor ;)
ReplyDeleteAnd perhaps it's best to not know what Buster's about all night...
Lovely post. I found you by following Tilly! :)
ReplyDeleteLike many of those who commented above I have never had the blessing of walking through a field of bluebells, as we do not have bluebells here in Costa Rica, central America. I can however share a few adventures of places I have travelled to, away from the grey streets of San Jose ( our capital city). Such as Chirripo, which at 3800 meters over sea level, is our tallest peak and from where on a sunny day, youre able to see both the Pacific and the Atlantic ocean ( we’re a small country).
ReplyDeleteI am sure that you and Mr. Froud would love to visit this place, for the few times I have gone I have felt that it is a place full of magic and that the mountains themselves have eyes.
regards
Charles Veiman