The beauty of a bluebell wood is one of the most eagerly awaited events of spring.
To sit quietly on a sunny morning watching brimstone and orange-tip butterflies flitting above the woodland floor and alighting under the drooping bells is a magical experience.
The deep blue pendulous flowers are sometimes sprinkled with white or pink and the overall scent of massed flowers is a delight.
Our genuine native bluebell is only found in countries bordering the Atlantic but increasingly we are seeing the invasive Spanish variety, a pale insipid imitation with upright flowers and thick stems; what I call the 'precocious blowsy bluebell' which opens earlier then the English bluebell.
There are fears that with time, the Spanish plant may hybridise with ours and dilute the native strain which might also suffer as global warming really takes hold.
It is an offence to pick bluebells and careless trampling of the dark green leaves can kill the plant. However, badgers ignore the rules and use their soft texture to line their setts!
Years ago,the bulbs were used to manufacture a kind of glue and also starch, the latter to stiffen fashionable ruffs in the Elizabethan era.
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