Bluebells are a mythical kind of flower to me. They seemed to feature heavily in the very old-fashioned children's stories and poems we read (or had read to us), and I always imagined them much larger, and more sky blue than they actually are. I like them better this way, delicate and subtle
Here in England they're a protected species, and bluebell woods are highly prized locations to visit. This isn't one of them, it's a neighbour's front garden (that's the lid of city of Preston recycling box you see there in the bottom left corner), but they're still lovely.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
One hundred and five: bluebells
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