Averting my eyes from the tulips which were shouting “Pick me! Pick me!” as I walked past, I headed towards the bottom end of the garden to pick some of the marauding Spanish bluebells that have sneaked their way in under/over/round the fence. The impact of bluebells in the garden has really registered in recent days, with the uninvited guests and the more local residents joining forces to provide by far and away the biggest splash of blue in the garden out of all the seasons. There may be little patches of blue from spring bulbs and isolated spots in the summer months, but bluebell season is something else and the splashes will only get larger and more widespread as time goes on, with even the English bluebells popping up in other parts of the garden than the woodland. By picking the Spanish bluebells, however, I can at least try and restrict their desire for dominance!
Joining the bluebells and chosen for the same spring freshness that their companions display are three fern fronds, their croziers unfurling beautifully in the way that only fern croziers can. I was intrigued to see that each of the individual pinnae on the frond are also curled – who knew? Joining the ferns and bluebells in my favourite 1980s blue-grey ribbed vase is a curl of Elder Daughter’s hair, not baby hair as she was all but hairless for her first three years, but from her first haircut. In truth though, it is only a curl because it has been curled up in this teeny box (which has a lid with a peacock design), made from coloured straw and lined with red silk, for nearly 40 years!
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