I was beginning to think that it was nearly impossible to capture, succinctly, something of the intense purplish-blue of the bluebell woods in full bloom. But then the sun, dappling out between huge puffy white clouds, created a sensational spotlight, leaving the bank of bluebells before us in immediate shade. So it was worth the little puff of effort to get to the top of the woody hill, after all.
By the time we’d finished our walk, up and out of the trees and into the rough of the neighbouring golf course, and then back down to the roadside and along to the community shop for some supplies, we were ready for a cup of tea. Well, one of us was, and the other had to see how the photographs had turned out.
It was a very rewarding amble, all in all, of the sort that opens one’s mind to possibilities. In the bluebell woods the trails bifurcate numerous times; which way shall we go this time? We discovered two more benches with delightful views, resting on the first with some gratitude.
It seems we’re constantly asking ourselves about the next steps.The path does not feel clearly marked, and there are always choices to be made. Sometimes we think clearly, and other times our feet propel us forward without conscious thought. For me, imagination has taken over much of my thinking time; I’m living more and more in the lives of characters that have arisen from my subconscious.
A character I’d begun to explore some months ago is challenged to face a new experience. What might she do? What talents might she have, and how might she be surprised by her response? It promises to be an exciting little amble, and perhaps I’ll discover a bank of bluebells in full bloom at its resolution.