Bluebells in Idless Woods.

Up and down the country, people writing articles and blogs, will be looking in the small book of Bluebell cliches and inserting the word 'carpet' into their guff. It's with good reason too, as there isn't really a better word to describe the spectacular covering of the flower found in some areas - blanket maybe, but carpet is the word that works best.

Bluebells are also a photographic cliche of course, every beggar armed with a camera and who isn't afraid to use it will be out bagging Bluebell shots, and I'm no exception. They are another sign of spring, and a quite dramatic one as well, if you're in the right place that is. Elsewhere though they gather in clumps on the verges and in gardens, and a splendid sight they make too.

So having photographed a few on the roadsides recently, I thought it time to go and poke my camera where I know a goodly number of Bluebells can be found, in my local woods in fact, Idless.

Bit of a Bluebell theme going to be happening in this post, as if you need telling. This photo taken in the lane towards Idless Woods.

The only thing is, the carpet cliche doesn't get pasted into any text describing the display in these woods. No lush azure Axminsteresque shag pile stretching to the horizon to be found here, just a bit of a rug really, a rather threadbare Poundland one at that. But as a wise man once said, "You can only pee with the cock you've got" so with that in mind, I headed into the wood bent on getting some photos, and pretty crap they are too. I've done the camera mounted low on the chain stay and riding past at speed shots many times before so wouldn't be doing that again, but I really couldn't come up with a good alternative, so ended up hoisting the GoPro up in the air on a selfie stick to at least get a view looking down on them. I tried with the compact camera, and indeed, with the wide angle and the telephoto on the DSLR but just couldn't get a decent photo of the spot where the Bluebells are spread out en masse (well, sort of). It's not just the floral display that's found wanting then, but my photographic skills as well. 

Hmmm... not the most dramatic of displays you'll ever see.

I knew all this though of course, having rushed into the woods excitedly in all the previous years, only to suffer photographic frustration, so the disappointment was not unexpected.

Oh knackers, blurry upload time...

 The top path in the woods is pretty much dry all the way along now, a rare thing at this time of year. 

Old giffer bimbling through the woods.

A typical Cornish' Cattle' stile on the edge of the woods. So named as they were constructed to deter cattle, using their height and being able to see daylight through them to put curious hairy/furry/woolly things off. I'm not sure if such creatures can use other forms of stile mind you, can't say I've seen cows scaling the normal wooden stile on their way for milking for instance, but maybe I'm just not looking in the right places.

So, measly smattering of flora done, it'd be rude not to carry on with a ride around the woods while I was there so I made my way along the upper path and by passing the car park at the main entrance, I boldly went into a part of the wood I've only explored once before. Now there is a good reason why that is - you can't ride a lot of it, having to get off and push as the narrow path is pretty overgrown in places, branches hang bonce batteringly low, and fallen trees lie across the path defying even the best of bunny hoppers. But you do get the feeling of being in a bit of a wilderness, albeit a pretty safe one. No crowds of yummy mummies or dog walkers round here, but they're not far away. Pushing the bike is not ideal for me, and I have to proceed carefully to avoid giving my back grief but on the beautiful sunny morning we had yesterday, it was well worth the considerable effort. This part of the wood has a bit of a wild feel about it, as if it has been left to its own devices, and sitting beside the burbling gurgling stream in amongst all the thick rag bag woodland, it felt like a scene that might not have changed at all in centuries.

Going a bit mad over a simple stream. On a hot day that water trickling down the hillside might look very appealing to a thirsty explorer, but it drains down from a cattle field, through a big wet patch of mud and cow bombs. No doubt there's plenty of cow pee in it as well, so it might have a bit more flavour than one might expect.

 This tree fell over quite some time ago by the look of things, but with roots still in the ground, it's far from dead, and the branches are pointing vertically upwards from the trunk in a line rather than out from all angles.

Random shot of spring growth.

Busting carefully out of the bushes onto the more well trodden path, I then faced the dilemma of whether to ride home via the lanes, or a bimble back through the woods, and after a few minutes of trying to make my mind up, I eventually opted for the latter. It was also getting on towards lunchtime, and I was as hungry as a bear that missed breakfast, so no photo stops were made on the return leg as the lure of Chicken Noodle simmer soup grew stronger the nearer home I got. 

Another enjoyable ride in the bag, and a much needed bit of relaxation after a couple of days of going into town. In the meantime, I can only look jealously at the photos of seas of gloriously dense Bluebells taken by other folk as I rather embarrassingly post my crappy shots of our meagre offerings. Is Bluebell envy a 'thing'? If it is, I think I'm suffering from it...

Map is on the crappy side of basic, but gives a rough idea. Total mileage according to the bike's computer was 7.4 miles, while the mapping site suggests 5.1 so the real figure is probably in the middle. 6 something or other then.

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