Hyacinthoides non-scripta

I finally convinced M to leave his laptop behind and venture into that strange place called...The Outdoors. Really, he likes hiking as much as I do, but since we both seem to have even less time than usual off (owing to the ridiculous times we can get to and from work currently), we both seem to be having difficulty getting up the energy to really do much together recently. At any rate, we got a lift to Kingston Lacey Estate, and went for a really lovely walk in their bluebell wood. I'd seen pictures of what the bluebells look like when they're out in force, and the pictures really don't do them justice. They're beautiful. It's like this vibrant carpet of purplish-blue under all the spring growth of the trees, and pictures simply can't capture it.



It's a bit sad really, because apparently the native British bluebell is being surplanted by the Spanish bluebell (which is considered to be lacking in strength of colour and beauty) as the climate is warming and the poor British bluebells can't adapt quickly enough to the warmer temperatures. Here's a bit more of a close up:


We decided to walk to Wimborne, which is a small market town with a Minster (which means that it's not a cathedral, but it's more important than a church), so that we could meet M's dad and get a lift back to our flat. Along the way, we saw yet another example of how humanity has taken over almost every square inch of the British countryside except for the mountains in Scotland.

If you can't tell, the second small waterfall is coming off a wheelbarrow. It's a very rustic and picturesque wheelbarrow, but a wheelbarrow nonetheless. It was a really lovely day though, and it made me fantasticly depressed that I have to go back inside the prison of a building that I work in tomorrow. Oh well. Back to the grind.