Bluebells

In this trip we're off on what has become something of a regular pilgrimage since my brother and I retired from the hectic world of work. Sometimes we search out new locations, but this year we returned to our favourite bluebell woods near the villages of St Paul's Walden and Preston, in Hertfordshire.

We parked near the church and were greeted by a splendid cock pheasant in full breeding plumage. We took it as a sign of a good day ahead.

And indeed we hadn't walked far at all before we encountered our first bluebells, growing in a meadow. Alongside them was another woodland plant, the Wood Anemone. We're walking through a "ghost wood", the trees having been cleared, but the woodland flowers persisting.

There were Primroses too, a flower most often associated with woodland edges and clearings. The fact that it's so often seen away from woods nowadays is just a reminder of how much woodland we have lost.

But raising our eyes we could see a carpet of bluebells on the edge of Hitch Wood, which is where this path will eventually lead us.

But first we have to follow an ancient track past grazing horses, pass by some very expensive-looking country dwellings and cross a quiet road.

Then our task is to simply follow the waymarked track through Hitch Wood. This is a privately-owned wood, albeit with a couple of public paths leading through it. At this eastern end of the wood the landowner has laid out more paths through the masses of bluebells and has put up signs and markers to help you on your way. There's even a small car park near the entrance to the wood.

By and large people stick to the permitted paths and don't trample the flowers. 

These are all English Bluebells and are distinct from the European variety. The English ones tend to have all their flowers hanging to one side and are smaller (and bluer). Unfortunately the more vigorous continental form has been introduced into gardens and can hybridise with the English bluebell.

We found ourselves walking more and more slowly as we tried to absorb all the beauty (and the wonderful fragrance) around us.

Soon we were following a rough track which was leading us out of this magical wonderland. Don't worry we'll find more bluebells later!

We're now out of the wood and passing by what I imagine was, and maybe still is, a gamekeeper's cottage. If our cock pheasant has any sense he'll linger in the churchyard, well away from the men with shotguns. 

Keep your eyes open - bluebells grow everywhere in this area.

Or you might spot a Treecreeper as it makes its mouse-like way up the trunk of a tree searching for insects.

Or you might see the more unusual white form of the bluebell. After a short walk we were back at the church at St Paul's Walden, where we'd left the car. 'Tis then but a short drive to the village of Preston and what is perhaps my favourite place for bluebells, Wain Wood.

Again there's a public footpath leading through, which the landowner has supplemented with additional permissive paths so you can enjoy the spectacle.

How did a branch grow like that?

Wain Wood has an interesting history which I wrote about a couple of years ago. If you're interested, or just want to see more pictures of bluebells, you can find that post at "By Stargoose And Hanglands": A Pilgrimage and A Pilgrim.

A tunnel for fairy folk?

Although the public are encouraged to walk here and see the flowers, it's clear from the signs that they don't want you biking through. Just as we're leaving here come some very young cyclists. At the gate they dismount and obediently push their bikes through the wood. There is hope for the world!

Take care.