Sunday 2nd May 2021

Day 2 of the three day weekend.

Yay.

The orchid season, and plants in general, are a couple of weeks behind what they have been in recent years. Meaning that the rush to get round lots of sites isn't as pressing in my fanatical brain as in previous years, that will change from next week after the cold, frosty nights end and it becomes more spring-like, but for now, there is an air of tranquility in my orchid madness.

I do get requests from folks on Twitter and FB for orchid walks or meetings, like yesterday, when I got a message from a guy in my FB group who had never seen an Early Spider.

So, a time was arranged; late enough to get some decent light, and early enough to avoid the crowds of dogwalkers and kids. 08:00.

Meet in the car park at Samphire Hoe, bring camera.

So, we were up early, having coffee, second coffee and breakfast before getting our shit together at half seven and driving dwon into town and then along to the tunnel.

I had my new shoes on, and once I had squeezed by feet in them, they were comfortable.

Which was nice.

My two friends were waiting, so we strap on cameras and camera bags, then set off along the track beside the railway, orchid eyes peeled.

Samphire was created from poil from the Channel Tunnel, and Early Spiders were one of the first colonisers, but the warden told me last year, as more species inhabit the soil, orchids will get squeezed out. Which goes to explain how we have gojne from 22,000 spiked a handful of years ago to a few hundred in the last two, and along the path, we maybe found a dozen, stunted, but bright enough.

We doubled back along the track, passed by the visitor's centre and headed to the sea wall. Waling north, then round the corner to the foot of the cliffs, and just before was the area of rubble, and as we looked for the tiny orchid slikes, we had disturbed an adder, which slithered deeper and deeper under the boulders.

We spot the orchids, not much bigger than the ones beside the track half a mile away, but these apparently growing out of the rock, they couldn't be that much soil for them to feed from, but enough so that they thrive.

Further along, under the cliffs we find larger spikes, most out of reach up the cliffs on ledges. But we were happy enough just to be close enough to admire.

We decide to go to another site, a half hour's drive to Stalisfied, so we walk back to the car, but I could feel the beginning of a blister on the my right foot, as I had had to buy a size too big to be able to get my left foot in. I tie the laces tighter, and hope that would fix it.

We travel in convoy up to the A20, then to Folkestone and up the motorway to Ashford, turn off and go up the A20, turning off, still in convoy, up the twisty lane leading up the down to the village.

Once we park up, we bedeck ourselves with cameras agan, and set off across the felds to the wood.

Its not quite peak bluebell here, but good enough, but sadly, clouds had swept over the skies, and the colours were muted, and not really worth photographing.

We go down the narrow path leading to the bottom of the wooded valley, and once there we come to the main path leading to where the meadow was.

We bumped into a group of walkers, and they asked us what we were looking for, and when we said orchids, they asked about a plant they had seen a way back, with unusual leaves, could I ID it?

I'll have a go, I said.

They showed my a photo on a mobile phone, but without needing to get closer I recognised it.

Herb Paris.

Paris quatrifolia.

Old English name: One Berry.

Is poisonous.

Wow, they said. And thanks.

We tried another couple, ID'd wood sorrel, but failed on a groundhugging species.

They left us, happy with what we had told them.

We come to the meadow, as usual, struggle over the fence, and are confronted with a meadow spreading up the side of the down, we could see no splashes of colour. But we might find something.

As we climbed up, we found about a dozen spikes of stunted EPO, but nothing else, and certainly no Fly found along the edge of a ridge, where I had seen them previous years. But, good news is that many of the Greater Butterfly were in rude health, and as long as there are no more frosts, it should be a good show.

Time to head back to the car, back to the wood and up the narrow path to the fields. I had blisters on both feet and my toe was throbbing, but I had gotten out and done stuff, not given in. I pushed on, but lagged behind the others, so they waited at the road.

I drive us back home, stopping off at a garage for a snadwich, Bombay Mix, drink and some choclate, though we would save the latter for home when we would enjoy it with a fresh coffee.

We drive home. Traffic on the motorway is heavy, almost back to normal. I cruise along at 60, and other cars roar past.

Back home, I make coffee and we eat the choclate: Jools has a Twirl and I have a Topic, which is about half the size I remember them being.

Arsenal were on TV, so I watch that. It was played at a walking pace, and it was a question of how many the Gunners would score, you would not believe that Newcastle were in 17th place, and fighting for survival, but were nine points clear of the drop. But still, no passion, no excitement. A match and empty stadium deserved.

The next game, the "big match", was delayed by protests at Old Trafford, which lead to it being postponed, as fans demanded the owners leave the club.

Jen arrives, so I cook steak and all the trimmings, which was glorious. We also have red wine spritzers, which I make last well after the meal was eaten, then I have a pint of squash to flush any crystals out. After washing up, we play cards and I win. And win big! 20p. It is half seven, Jen leaves to watch snooker before the Line of Duty fianle, which Jools also watches. I go to bed to watch a podcast, and so the evening passes.