Monday 20th May 2024

A long day, with three site visits.

Ireland seems green. I mean it is green, 500 shades of green, doubly so when the sun shines, but a lot is given over to farming, so the parts showing the original nature are pretty much restricted to nooks and corners and reserves, which can mean having to travel miles between them to see a particular species.

So after a hearty Irish breakfast at eight, we assembled to load the cars at nine for the hour long drive to a small nature reserve about 70km north of Sligo.

We headed north through Ballyshannon and Donegal, the roads were good and traffic light. One feature is even two lane roads have a hard shoulder to the left of a dotted yellow line, for tractors mainly, it seems, but slow driver can, but usually don't, pull over.

There are regular filling stations, each with a place where you can get freshly made sandwiches or rolls. Like Subway but with real bread. It is true, that Subway cannot call their bread "bread" as it contains too much sugar.

So it goes.

After Donegal, we leave the main roads and head towards the coast. On the edge of an estuary, inland from some dunes, we stop and park..

The walk down the lane was rewarded with dozens of damselflies in the hedge, many defying identification for now anyways.

Over a stone style onto the reserve, and the first magenta coloured Early Marsh revealed itself.

On beside the brook we went, before the landscape opened out, and went out onto the flood plane, where there were many more Early Marsh, magenta and dark pink, so emerging Heath Spotted and several Lesser Butterflies just about to flower.

A huge tick was the arrival of a newly emerged Marsh Fritillary, who gave good long displays of under and overwings, so much so we all got shots.

Back to the car past the damselflies and butterflies of the hedge, then all back in the car drive further north to St John's Point, collecting sandwiches and wraps from a filling station on the way.

At the end of the public road, there is a white beach, with the headland stretching out behind. On this day, without a breath of wind, the sky was reflected perfectly on the still sea.

This was our second site for the day: a peninsular stretching out into the east Atlantic, living in a bog nearly at the end, soaking their roots hidden from the track that passes nearby.

In the distance, a thunderstorm rumbled, and the sunny and warm morning had given way to a darker and gloomier afternoon with the promise of rain sooner rather than later.

We saw the orchid, though I bailed again on a trek to see more lower down in wetter conditions, so limped back to the car.

The views were spectacular, in the opposite direction to the storm, the land dropped to the beach, and the still air meant the mountains and clouds were reflected in the bay.

Very few people come here by accident, and few people come at all. I watched two families get out of their cars, walk to the beach, throw rocks at the sea and climb back in.

Its a hobby.

I sat and listened to podcasts while people watching as they came to the small beach. All the while, distant thunder echoed around the landscape, getting more distant.

We drove north, through villages that were welcoming their children from a day at school, or parents at work. The sunshine of earlier and still air had given over to clouds and a chill wind. It seemed we were surrounded by thunderstorms, one of which would soak us, it seemed. Would we beat the rain to see the final orchid of the day?.

It had been a long day, we were tired, and more storms were building, the sunshine of the morning was a distant memory, and a cool wind had set in.

We walked in file up into the dunes, turning off after a while, looking for tiny spikes among the other vegetation.

After an hour, over a dozen were found, but all had done over to seed and were going brown, as the Dense Flowered Orchid only flowers for a few days.

But these counts.

I walked back to the car while the rest did some more exploring, and so at half seven we all climbed in, happy with the day, and dreaming of fish and chips from a nearby town. But the chippy closed at eight and was half an hour away, and sure enough when we arrived, it was closing.

We went to a nearby bar, who were very accommodating in seating eight without reservations and serving us promptly and for me, one of the best vegetable curries I have had.

The two pints of Guinness I fell were well earned.

After that, we went back outside, the rain had arrived, so we rushed back to the car, and had a 70 minute drive through the gathering gloom back to Sligo, not getting back until half ten.

Phew.