Sunday 7th June 2015

Saturday

We woke up at five in the morning, with the sun already up and shining brightly through the gaps in the curtains. In addition, the seagulls on the roof were making a right racket, as were the magpies, clearly unhappy with the lack of food out in the front garden. OK< it might not have been five, but it felt early. Very early. I have just checked the sunrise time and found that it was before five, therefore I was not imagining being awake so early.

Does this mean I am not losing my memory and going mad? That is impossible to say, but that just 36 hours later, I cannot recall such details might be a worry. Or not. As long as I remember who I am and the recipe for ice, I will be fine.

There were some chores to be run first: the very first one, well after feeding the cats, making coffee, getting dressed and so on, was to take Molly to the vet for her annual MOT and jabs so she can stay at the cat hotel when we go on our holibobs, now less than four weeks away! Now, Molly is a clever cat, she senses unusual things, so there is no messing: grab Molly and lock her in the bathroom, and keep her there until half eight when we load her into the cat basket, then after dressing our wounds, one of us takes her to the vet.

So, it fell to Jools to do the dirty deed, and I laid in bed I heard Jools carrying Molly up the stairs, with Molly making a right fuss, spitting and hissing. But the bathroom door was locked with Molly behind it, that was the hard part done. Or, until we have to load the hissing, spitting ball of fur into the cat basket. We have breakfast, more coffee, then donning oven gloves and other protective clothing, we go to the bathroom with the basket, and between us we get Molly into the basket. It was easy, as clearly she saw our preparations and realised resistance was futile.

Jools went to the vets, and I cleared up, watered the garden, checked on my camera batteries.

Once back, we then made plans for the day: as Jools had a barnet wrangling appointment in town, and I had to be in Faversham to meet a friend to do some orchid chasing. It was agreed I would drop Jools off at the top of Langdon Hole and she would walk into town, and get the bus back. Whilst I would drive to Faversham to meet Mark.

It was a glorious day, at least on the coast, sun shone from a clear blue sky. Further north as I went round Canterbury, clouds rolled in a little, but it was still a wonderful day. I waited for Mark at the petrol station, taking the time to top up the tanks, and I was hoping for an ice cream, but the garage did not have a freezer, so I went without. Sobs.

Once Mark turned up, he told me the direction to go, so we set off up the M2 towards the Medway towns, before turning off down another busy road, over three or so roundabouts, and parking outside a transport company, where there were severe warnings for unauthorised parking, we grabbed our gear and walked down the path to the reserve. In fact, I do not know if it was a reserve, but it is fenced off, but little visited judging by the faint paths winding their way through deep undergrowth. After only a few yards we came to the first of what we had come to see: an Early Marsh Orchid.



What separates one species form another seems, at least to me, to be a little arbitrary, and as all orchids from this family like to inter-breed and produce hybrids, and finally as there are six very different sub-species in the Early Marsh, telling one from another or to what is a hybrid is tricky. Mark helped out, pointing out what was clearly an Early Marsh, the next few were harder. Then came some Southern Marsh, some Leopard Marsh, and some others which could be, well, who knows. We snapped them all, or most of them. A wonderful site, but one under threat, as Common Spotted were showing here for the first time, maybe a hint that the site is drying out?



So where to now? Well, Late Spiders can be a bugger to snap, it has to be in sunshine, like most orchids, to get the colours accurate. So, as Mark had never been to one of the lesser known and hard to find sites, we set off for Ashford.

The site is at the foot of a large down, more of a large hill really. And in an un-marked part of a minor road, there is a small space big enough for a car. Through the five bar gate, and round a corner there is a dell, and on one side there are the spikes. They are smaller here than the ones I saw on Friday, but the site is less visited, and less trampled. It is wonderful.



I see a Broad Bodied Chaser land on a branch in front of me, but leave again as I raise my camera. We walk to the orchids, marked with cages. Most have just one flower open, a couple have two. But the colours are so vivid. We spend half an hour there, taking shots in the sunshine, and waiting whilst the clouds passed over. As Mark takes shots, I watch a Kestrel hunting above us, dropping dwon in steps before falling to the ground and grabbing some small rodent and flying away again.

So, we had our shots. But the thought of the single pure white Lady meant that we would be heading to the old stamping ground at Barham. I really don't mind to be honest, as it has really opened up now and is at its best. In addition there are the Lesser Butterfly of course.

As ever, there is no one else about, first of all we go to look at the white Lady: we were going to look at what else was open, but as I have searched most of the site now, I am sure there was just the usual Twayblade, Lady and Fly. I am hoping for others in due course. Up the bridleway once more, more huffing and puffing. But once at the top, the spikes become visible, and looking wonderful in the deep shade, like little white ghosts.



As we go into the wood to check on the two largest examples, I hear a noise, and about 50m away through the trees, I see two adult badgers snuffling about. We stand and watch them for a few minutes, they were unaware of us, we didn't take shots, as they were too far away. So, we took ourselves back down the hill to the car.

Mark had promised me a pint, and so in the village we stopped at the pub, and Timothy Taylor was one tap, which was good enough for me. And Mark. We retired to the beer garden with our pints and packs of nuts. A perfect end to the day.

It was now four, and I had to take Mark home in Faversham, then drive home. But as the road passes the prime Birds Nest and White Helleborine site: why not stop?



Indeed. THere was a sports car parked at the entrance to the wood, so I pulled up behind, and there was a chap snapping the orchids too. We passed the time of day, and I went to snap the Helleborine. And wonderfully, a few plants had the moths of their flowers open, showing the yellow inside: the first time I had ever seen this. I snapped away, and happy with a job done, I went back to the car and drove home.



I had an hour before the next item of the day: the arrival of our friend Matt who was going to stay the night, as he had a cycle ride to attend in Deal the next morning. And who am I to refuse a request from a lycra-clad cyclist? Only joking. Always a pleasure to have guests. After asking if he could stay, his next question was would we be watching the Champions League Final.

It seems we would.

I had prepared pasta salad that morning, Jools and I made breaded aubergine, then I cooked three rib-eye steaks, all ready for just after Matt arrived so we could watch the game.

Barca v Juventus: should have been a great game, but with Barca tapping the ball around, Juve hardly got a look in in the first half. Barca scored after 3 minutes, but could have had half dozen by half time. 2nd half, Juve equalised, but then conceded a second, and a third with the last kick of the game. The right team won, but all the rolling around with imaginary injuries really began to grate.

We went outside to watch the stars come out and drink whisky. Ending like all good days should, really.