Today marks the publication of 11,111 posts by yours truly (this one is obviously plus one).
On our walk today, we passed a garden where daffodils are raising their golden heads towards the sun, and crocuses are coming out to accompany them. In another flower bed in the same garden are a host of purple, red, yellow and white pansies, and the new growth on the once barren stems of hydrangea bushes is phenomenal.
It’s been beautifully sunny today, and Spring is definitely here.
It’s Mother’s day here in the UK on March 14th and cards are everywhere, so I’ve been thinking about my Mum today. She loved flowers of all descriptions, including the handful of pretty weeds I’d collected and brought home from the hedgerow by the field when I was a small child.
I remember so many times Mum wanting us to stop so that she could pick the daffodils that lined the country lanes when she came up for a holiday and every so often there was a polite notice not to pick the flowers but to leave them for everyone to enjoy.
Where she lived with my sister, there was a bluebell wood not far away, and bluebells held happy childhood memories for my Mum. Hubby took me to the outskirts of Malvern on my birthday in 2015 to see the bluebell woods there. I had never seen such a glorious sight. The blue stretched for what seemed like miles in all directions, and to just turn a corner in the road and be greeted by such a fabulous expanse was truly wonderful.
All photos are mine: Malvern Bluebell Woods May 2015