Perfect Moment

People say you can't capture the beauty of bluebells properly in a photograph and I think I know why,  the photograph is not the whole package.

Imagine yourself standing on a dusty footpath at the edge of a bluebell wood, with great swathes of rippling blue, interspersed with creamy wood anemones and red campion to your right, the subtle scent just detectable, a woodpecker crazily battering at a nearby tree, woodland birds singing their hearts out and suddenly a large hare, startled, stops for a split second right in front of you and then turns tail and scampers off into the undergrowth.

That's what an English bluebell wood is like.