My daughter made a flying visit home in between seeing friends and returning to school. We took advantage to have an Easter ‘Grampa Special Breakfast’ with her (so named because my dad used to make a big brunchy breakfast at least once when we were in town. Mom, of course, did all the other meals. She is known for making the Best Spaghetti Ever.).
It had rained all morning but by the time breakfast was over and dishes were washed, the skies had cleared. Daughter and I put on coats (and scarves) and went on an expedition to search for signs of bluebells. We live about a 20 minute walk from a huge forest, but in our experience, the best bluebells are in a slice of woods between two main roads and a neighborhood. We were not disappointed.
While the flowers were not at their peak, they were blooming in abundance. They haven’t quite reached the effect of a purple mist on the ground (because even though they are called bluebells, they are decidedly purple), but they are well on their way. I took some photos, but pictures do not do them justice. Professionals can catch the color and quantity, but I haven’t yet seen a photograph that captures the way the flowers in the distance merge into a hazy carpet.
I will borrow this blog’s wonderful idea of ending with a ‘Gratitude Moment’ … Even though the visit was short, my husband and I got to spend a pleasant morning with our daughter, and she and I got our forest fix despite the changeable weather.