One mass of bluebells
“Livingstone Road, where I live, was built in the latter part of the nineteenth century. Nothing special about the road, just long lines of terraced houses.
One thing I have never been able to change. Every Spring, my front garden is one mass of bluebells. These are beautiful when they bloom, but soon become a dusty mess. As a young man I tried digging them out; now I think: ‘Live with them!’. Many gardens in the area contain them. It would be wonderful to think that this dull urban area was once a bluebell wood.”