The wild garlic fragrant air hung heavy in a breathless woods. The stillness of air made distant sounds seem closer, and the close seemingly afar. A meandering path cut through the carpet of Bluebell blue, whose blue held hinted Indigo hue, to accent the blue as true.  The path ran to follow a bubbling brook and here and there, to and fro jumped across, with fallen trees to bridge and green rocks of moss.

Here, childhood memories come to mind, of Pixies and fairies here stories to find, enchanted and magic and believing as fact, they lived here and played here, wearing little bluebell hats.

The woods dappled in light and dark shade where sunbeams appear, split by branches and leaves into golden light spears. Glittering in the light hangs delicate threads, strands of silver, left by those who build webs and high in the branches the woodpigeons coo, to give all to relax to their comforting tune. In the shade hovering as if to sit, the buzz and hum of those who suddenly dart and stop, and then again flit.

Ahead, in a dark part of the trail a single shafted golden ray broke through and there in the light as if suspended, a single creature flew...  a Dragonfly. Approaching he seemed to turn to watch me, when level he turned again as if to face me, as if with the same intrigue I felt toward him. The creature was a magnificent metallic green blue and purple array with wings thou transparent also held a rainbow display. I was the stranger in his realm just passing through, he turned to face away, I carried on but then looked back and was surprised as he looked back too, then he swooped a turn and off he flew.

The path carried on through the bluebell throng, with the buzzing, and the humming and the woodpigeons song. Then... as if suddenly the path came to an end, as if turning a corner out of a bend, the trail led from woods to open fields, to open skies and a new blue revealed, but thoughts were drifting to the experience past of Bluebells and Dragonflies and the woods winding path.