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THE SCENT OF BLUEBELLS

Friday 30th May 2014

High up above the little village of Tillicoultry is a beautiful sea of blue on the hills. The other day we decided to drive up to the bluebell wood.  As soon as we got out of the car the scent hit you. I had forgotten bluebells had a scent it was so beautiful and like with so many smells it took me right back to my childhood and holidays with my grandparents in East Yorkshire. There was a bluebell wood near where they lived and we used to go and picnic there, it was always magical to me and something I have always kept in the back of my mind. Those picnics were filled with homemade baking from my Aunty Cora, wrapped in greaseproof paper, everything tasted wonderful and special. They were also filled with laughter, fun and freedom. Freedom to explore the woods for hours with my cousins, make camps, get muddy and tired and fall into bed at the end of the day in total peace and happiness. I think it must be hard for children today to enjoy such freedom, to be able to roam freely without the constant worry of adults.  The natural world was full of surprises for us, lots of discoveries that kept your imagination working long after you had left the woods. In today’s world the gadgets that children use all the time seem to leave no room for imagination or discoveries it’s all there in your face, flashing, shouting and demanding. I would much rather have day’s picnicking and making camps in bluebell woods.

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