The impossibility of bluebells

It's impossible to photograph, depict or describe the subtle scent and sight of a shimmer of bluebells on a sunny day. It can only be experienced. Even poets struggle.  Ann and Charlotte Bronte, both wrote poems with the title 'The Bluebell' but they are about a different flower, the harebell, which is known as the bluebell in the north. It's charming in its fashion but does not grow in multitudes that storm the senses.

This ancient woodland has been resource for centuries providing both private and, up to a point,  public opportunities for pannage, forage, hunting, trapping,  coppicing, grazing, wooding and so on. Now it's the bluebells that give the richest reward to visitors.