Saturday 2nd July 2018

June lasted 30 days, and according to the weather records, we in East Kent had just one day of rain, or day with rain, and that amounted to 14mm.

I say this because Sunday was another long, sunny and hot day. If we were to do something, it would have to be early.

The last record of a Frog Orchid I heard was in Dover, and as you might have realised it has been that recording from 1984 was what I was chasing. When we hunted for the Burnt Tip, I got talking to a guy, and we became friends on FB, and when I said I was looking for the Frog me messaged me with news of a sighting from the late 90s, almost half the time.

He also gave me some directions, not very clear directions, and maybe where we ended up was a different place to where he thought he was directing us too, but still, a walk is never wasted.

Wye Down is about half an hour's drive away, along the motorway and up Stone Street, turning off and along narrow lanes to Hastingleigh and then up the down. We were early enough to be the only car about, certainly off Stone Street, we parked up, and after grabbing my camera we walked through the style onto the down, where a few weeks ago there were some Lady spikes, not was lush green vegetation, falling away onto what looked like a plain below, through Brook to Ashford and further on to where in a haze, the land and sky met.

We walk down the gently sloping land, through an open five bar gate and on through a field of thistles, only a few open. And on to where the thistles gave way, and an ancient track emerged from a wood, this was where the Frogs should be.

But of the Frog, and any other orchid, there was no sign. We walked back and forth above the track, and nothing orchid-like was found. What we did find was huge Self Heal, and dozens of butterflies; Meadow Browns, Small Skippers, Large Skippers, Marbled Whites and a single Small Copper. That was the first Small Copper I had seen all year.

Jools walked back to the car, I searched some more, but accepted that there were no Frog here.

I too walked back along the ridge of the down, hoping that on the grassy bank a spike may have survived, but I found none.

I meet Jools at the car; shall we go home? Yes, we shall.

As we drove back, people were just setting out for the day, and we were done.

Back home I make brunch, then we complete the task we bagan the day before, sealing the new patio at the bottom. I swept up again, then using a roller on a handle I apply a liberal coating of the stuff to the stones. It was so warm that it was drying in minutes if not seconds, and that the labels insistence that it would take three days to dry clearly hadn't banked on days like this.

Once that was done, I allow myself to have a small beer, a small beer that would send me on the verge of sleep all through the afternoon's game, Spain v Russia. A poor game anyway, and ends 1-1 and then we were treated to extra time and then penalties with hosts Russia winning out. The crowd goes wild.

In the evening, Denmark play Croatia; a goal each in the first 5 minutes promised much, but that was it. Another 1-1 draw, followed by 30 minutes extra time and penalties that Croatia win.

And that is it, other than the final episode of series 2 of the Expanse, and apparently it goes on and on; seven books worth.