I was walking my dog earlier today enjoying the lovely May sunshine and it suddenly struck me how everything seems to have burst into bloom over the last few weeks. I particularly have a soft spot for Bluebells, as I have fond memories of going for picnics with my mum in Bluebell wood, Rochdale, when I was growing up.
There has been some suggestion that the UK has up to half of the worlds population of Bluebells! Despite their name, bluebells can also be white.
If you see any pink ones they are probably Spanish Bluebells, an increasing problem in our British woodlands. A bit like the red and grey squirrel conundrum.
There has been some suggestion that the UK has up to half of the worlds population of Bluebells! Despite their name, bluebells can also be white.
If you see any pink ones they are probably Spanish Bluebells, an increasing problem in our British woodlands. A bit like the red and grey squirrel conundrum.
Romantic poets of the 19th century, such as Keats and Tennyson, believed that the bluebell symbolised solitude and regret. What ever bluebells remind you of, I am struck by the prettiness of a cobalt blue carpet of our British woodlands in May. Something to cherish and protect.
