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Bluebell woods

The drive from Billingshurst to Bath takes you along the edge of the North Downs, as you cut across the south of England towards Winchester. It's a lovely drive at any time, but it's at its finest in the late spring.

Woods line the roadside, and the spring green trees are starting to awaken from their winter slumber. Out the corner of your eye you'll see the first hints of a fugitve, ethereal blue, fading in and out of the woods. It's the unearthly glow of a mature bluebell wood, the flowers radiating a cherenkov shower of light across the shadow-dappled woodland. Sometimes it's as if they're hardly there at all, just a reflection into our world from some brighter, faerie place...

Bluebell woods in high spring in England, on St George's Day. Is there any better sight to lift a man's heart?

[Posted on the road using hblogger on my Treo]


( 3 comments — Leave a comment )
Apr. 23rd, 2004 08:24 pm (UTC)
Well perhaps an Englishman...
Apr. 24th, 2004 10:28 pm (UTC)
Apr. 25th, 2004 04:30 pm (UTC)
As Housman says

And like a skylit water stood
The bluebells in the azured wood.
( 3 comments — Leave a comment )