Childhood memories reach the deepest into our being and sometimes come out with surprises in our adult lives. One of my oldest memories is watching my Mother and her sister visiting. They'd often sit at a kitchen table laughing and sharing pictures of their lives. Among the reunion pictures of people taking pictures of each other and all the baby pictures, Aunt Elsie had pictures they called, "bluebell island" of the women and children in their family dressed in casual clothes and holding huge armloads of tiny blue flowers. The pictures were rare, and started in black and white with ruffley edges, and later were in bright color.
They were farmers, and worked hard every day of their lives, but once a year, they'd take the day off and go to bluebell island with a picnic and a play day. I always looked at these relaxed smiling pictures and felt envy that they found such joy is this event that I was never included in.
Over and over, through the years, I tried to start bluebells growing on my little place here in Northern Indiana, but with no luck.
Then, a few years ago on a visit to my cousin who still lives near the old home place in Southern Illinois, I mentioned bluebell island to him. He replied, "you never saw that place?" "I think it's time now, let's go!" We drove for a while, then parked and walked across plowed fields, gently rolling, and rutted from the plow, about a quarter mile, then through a stand of huge, old trees, growing densly together and mossy with age. Finally, we came out onto a bluff, looking down into a misty little valley. A small stream ran through it, (they call it a creek in that part of the country), and had carved out this isolated valley, and in the middle, an island, just covered with bluebells. It looked like a magic place, something that must exist on Never-Never Land. Just amazing, quiet and beautiful. I don't believe I picked a single flower, just wandered around in a daze. No wonder all those pictures looked so happy!
It's such a nice place to think about, and one of those special memories I keep tucked away to return to now and then for peace and joy, to refresh myself.
So, this spring, I was roaming in our own little woods and was so surprised to find this one little bluebell plant, quietly blooming there and waiting to be seen. One of the many I planted, and gave up on when they seemed to die and dissapear. Someday I may have my own little bluebell island, if I'm lucky. In the meantime, I'm so very happy to have found this little spot of blue magic, growing in my very own woods. What a lucky person I am.
