My Blue Heaven.

From the church, across the fields, watched by the contented cows chewing their cud, the path took us to the woods.
Over the style, we were met with a beautiful blue haze.
The Bluebells were at their best.
Just the sound of the breeze, rippling through the trees.
The birds singing, and the sound of the brook babbling along down in the valley.
Heaven.
The only people we met were a young man and his father, who were crossing the top of the waterfall.
We stopped to chat about how beautiful the woods were, especially on a day like today.
Although a sneaky breeze, it was warm in the sunshine.
Although only 10/15. minutes from home we missed the bluebells last year because we couldn’t travel due to Covid.
Today certainly made up for it.
English Springtime at it’s best.