In a forest, in a wood ...

It was a beautiful sunny afternoon yesterday, so rather than spend the day trudging through the usual round of Sunday household chores, we grabbed the opportunity to collect Stuart's grandson en route to the countryside, to hunt for bluebells ...

My dog owning sisters had mentioned Hucking Woods several times, so we pointed the car towards Detling Hill, to see if we could find them for ourselves.

And when we did, we weren't disappointed!  The display of bluebells was absolutely glorious ... a carpet of dainty blue flowers, as far as the eye could see.

I love bluebells ... they never fail to remind me of the woodland at the bottom of our garden, when I was a little girl.  Dad would take me and my sisters through the garden gate on a Sunday afternoon, into the woods to enjoy wild primroses and bluebells and to run and climb ... happy times.

Nowadays, Stuart and I take a great deal of pleasure from sharing his grandson's enjoyment of the countryside.  Like most lads of his age, he's keen to run, climb and explore the great outdoors ... 

And in his magical world, a fallen tree branch soon becomes a horse,

A stick ... his trusty sword ...

...  and Grandad, his evil foe!

I think there's something wonderfully mysterious about bluebell woods, so it's easy to understand how a little boy's imagination can run wild on a woodland walk at this time of year.

Getting out and about in the fresh air on a beautiful Sunday afternoon is always a treat, but for me, the most precious thing is watching this little lad have fun with his Grandad, knowing that for a few hours Grandad has completely forgotten the pressures of adult life, because he is having great fun too!