THERE are two reasons why the bluebell invariably comes near the top of any poll of Britains favourite wildflower. One is that the plants huddle close together, creating a uniquely spectacular unbroken carpet of dazzling blue in the dappled sunlight of the woods where they flourish, as well as giving off a delicate aroma if the weather is warm enough. The second, more important reason is that bluebells have the grace to flower in late April and early May. This is when spring turns into summer, a window of unique optimism when we make ourselves believe that maybe this year we can look forward to weeks of long sunny days and balmy evenings - before the cruel disillusion of the British summer kicks in a month or two later. But whatever the weather has in store for us, the signs are that for the next few weeks we shall be enjoying an especially rich feast for the eyes and nostrils in bluebell woods across the country. The promise comes from the Woodland Trust, which looks after some of our most historic woods and forests. And it is in ancient woodlands - technically, those known to have been in existence for more than 400 years - that the most stunning displays are to be seen. The trusts scouts have been keeping their eyes open and already report an abundance of spiky green leaves. The cool winter and comparatively mild spring gave bluebells conditions they relish. Already in the west of Cornwall they are producing masses of flowers, and before long the parade will be spreading rapidly east and north across the country. Indeed, this has been an exceptionally good year for all spring bulbs. Our parks have boasted wonderful displays of crocuses, daffodils and tulips - and we are promised comparable treats as we embark on our woodland walks. Daily Mail There is, however, just one potential cloud on the horizon. Conservationists fear that over the long term, the elegant native British bluebell, with its slightly arched neck nodding like a shepherds crook and suggesting humility and diffidence, could be displaced, or at least corrupted, by the blowsier, more robust Spanish variety, which is grown in more and more private gardens. The folk song The Blue Bells Of Scotland ('Oh where and oh where has my Highland Laddie gone?) almost certainly celebrates the harebell. It was the Romantic poets, such as Shelley and Southey, who established the name for the woodland flower that we know as the bluebell. Mabey is one of many writers moved to rhapsodies by bluebells. 'With the filtered light dappling the trunks and the bluebells shifting in the breeze, ambling through the flowers is like walking underwater. In the language of flowers, where a red rose means passion and orange blossoms denote chastity, the bluebell stands for constancy. So lets make sure we maintain and protect it for future generations - and that in the next few weeks we show our appreciation by making for the woods whenever we can.