One of the best things about this month is the flowering of the bluebells in the woods. Went up to Evans' wood this morning, which is thickly carpeted in a haze of blue and smells heavenly! I don't think anybody can fail to be impressed and uplifted at the sight of a wood full of bluebells, they are beautiful. Sat for a while in the wood with a buzzard in the tree above me 'mewing' loudly to its mate and a lovely pair of goldfinches perched nearby. It's turned quite cold again with frequent heavy showers, but at least the hedgerows and woods are thickening up now with all sorts of wild flowers tumbling along the banks, and providing much better conditions for the birds to nest. Found some more wrens nests, one had a thrushes nest just above it, the tree is a little tenement block for birds.
The Bluebell - Anne Bronte
( lines from)
A fine and subtle spirit dwells
In every little flower,
Each one its own sweet feeling breathes
With more or less of power.
There is a silent eloquence
In every wild bluebell
That fills my softened heart with bliss
That words could never tell.
Before me rose a lofty hill,
Behind me lay the sea,
My heart was not so heavy then
As it was wont to be.
But when I looked upon the bank
My wandering glances fell
Upon a little trembling flower,
A single sweet bluebell.
O, that lone flower recalled to me
My happy childhood's hours
When bluebells seemed like fairy gifts
A prize among the flowers,
Those sunny days of merriment
When heart and soul were free,
And when I dwelt with kindred hearts
That loved and cared for me.
'Sad wanderer, weep those blissful times
That never may return!'
The lovely floweret seemed to say,
And thus it made me mourn.