Bluebells on the banks of Loch Katrine.

I cycled lonely as a cloud
That floats along o'er glens and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of Scottish Bluebells;
Beside the loch, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
 
 
With apologies to Wardsworth


Wish we had visited a week earlier the flowers were just 


beginning to fade.