bluebell babies

I adore bluebells.

Those perfect little flowers

signal the beginning of summer

and that is always something to smile about.

But I also adore the nostalgia I get when I see them.

As a little girl I used to visit the bluebell woods near my grandparents' house every year.

My Nan would pack a picnic of chocolate and sweets

and we would stop half way through the woods to enjoy our feast,

sitting on an huge old tree stump that we called a picnic table.

I would pick small bunches to take home for my mum.

They were always the loveliest adventures.

Bluebells have become a firm fixture in my springtime now I am a mummy.

And my mum always comes along too,

because I think all children should get to have a picnic 

in the bluebell woods with their Nanny.

Last year my little man was my only baby,

and he looked so teeny.

But what a difference a year makes.

My two bluebell babies definitely enjoyed their adventure.

Although the beautiful boy is adamant that they are "purple-bells"

and I can definitely see his point on that one.

It was lovely to see them sitting in the long grass.

My beautiful babies among the beautiful bluebells.