The bluebells are in full glory in our UK broadleaved woodlands. They cover the woodland floor with a heavy oily blue mist that always makes my heart ache: I want to gather them up, take them home and protect them. Failing that I photograph them on my mobile while I am out walking or cycling. They remind me of my childhood – and being in love. I am not much-travelled; I wonder if there are bluebells in the woods of other European countries right now.