Beech Trees and Bluebells

For Wordsworth, it was daffodils. For me, I think it would almost certainly have to be bluebells. Each year I really look forward to their appearance. On Monday night at Study Group, a friend told me they are looking at their best right now in a local wood. So I took myself off there today and was not disappointed. They stretched off in every direction, so that it seemed as if there was a blue mist hovering just above the ground. And the smell was wonderfully intense - quite heady.

So, to modify WW slightly:
'For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure swells,
And dances with the bright bluebells.'