They were just this tiny patch, across this little ravine in a forested area down the lane, but every spring they looked so pretty, and this year I was determined to catch them and bring some inside! Every day when we checked the mail, we also checked the bluebells. They sprouted, they budded, and then I remembered why I had never gotten them into the house. It rained.
Suddenly, my lovely flowers were on the other side of a six foot deep by thirty foot wide puddle. Too wide to jump, and too deep for my rain boots. So we waited while they bloomed and the water started slowly going down.
Obviously, I got them, or else I wouldn't have these pictures!
One day, at the end of nap time (just about the time when you start finishing up your projects and listening for noises) I remembered that the water was down enough - it was now or never! I pulled on my boots, ran down the lane (in boots, just picture that!) cut my flowers and ran back. No one had awakened (whew!) and I had my bluebells trimmed, singed - you always singe the tips of flowers with hollow or milky stems - and into water just in time for the family to enjoy them.
Five years in, and I finally got my bluebells.