Sunday afternoon is meant to mean a walk and a roast dinner. I think. I don’t really subscribe to this view as I don’t really like roast dinners but I am happy to have a walk. There’s a wood near where I live called oxymoronically Bushey Wood. Bluebells grow in there.
I’ve written about the wood before but have spelt the name wrong. See here and here. I’m not going to correct those. One of the guiding principles of this website is that it is how it is. There is very little I have altered. If I have altered stuff then I use the strike through symbol.
On the way to the wood there were lots of people dressed in high-visibility red/orange suits. They were Kent Rescue taking part in an exercise. I think I have found something extra I can do. I just need to work out if I can afford the time.
The footpath through the wood revealed a glorious covering of bluebells.
Spring time is here. Let the sun come out and warm our glorious lands [and other rubbish like that]. But, seriously, some sun would be nice, it’s cold here!
