I wanted to show Frank the bluebells before it was too late. I saw them over a week ago on Leith Hill and they were perfect, not just a wood, but a sea of blue extending out under the woods in all directions.
Frank got back from a 10 day trip to San Francisco a few days ago and I knew we’d have to squeeze it in quick to catch the bluebells at their peak. But then came jet lag naps, and lots of rain, and a trip to the circus, and the bluebell window kept closing. I felt like Mirium in Sons and Lovers who so wanted to show her lover the flowers in the woods so that together they could share some sort of feverish, religious commmunion. Actually what I really wanted was for Frank to be amazed like I was and inspired to record the sight in his weblog. I wanted to capture the magic somehow.
Having worked that part out ,I realized that I could capture the magic myself, so I set off with the camera to record them and took my Mum and Sebastian with me for the communion company. In our house it’s usually Frank who takes the photos, but this time it was me, balancing Sebastian on my back in the slightly broken backpack, and slithering around on the banks of bluebells. There had been so much rain that the clay earth underfoot was sticky and soft. Together Mum and I clambered up to the top of the wood to explore the paths, but they didn’t really go anywhere except into a green bog. She helped me up and down banks with the camera and backpack and even helped tie my shoelace one time which was sweetly poignant since I’m so much the mum these days that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be helped like that.
We got home to dry socks and hot tea, (I do drink so much more of the stuff now I’m back in England), and I proudly showed the photos to Frank. “I thought you might want to write a piece about these” I said, But then I realized that I wanted to write a piece about them. So I am.
I’ve been trying to start up my book again after weeks of moving houses and getting settled here in Leatherhead, and I’ve been finding it tough to find child-free time, and the right peace and space. So the bluebells are helping me start again, a bit like getting back on the horse. Some days I get overwhelmed by the idea of actually writing a book, but then I remember Ridge Sampson’s words back when I worked at Ozone and was feeling overwhelmed. “How do eat an elephant?” he’d say, eyes twinkling. “One bite at a time.”
I’m beginning to feel like I may have my appetite back.
– Posted by Rachel
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