Monday 18th April 2016

Sunday

And in the east, in that time, the sun did rise, and strongly it did shine, and so illuminated the orchids that were yet open.

And for some reason, I decided to forgo the joy of watching MOTD, I think listening to the City game had been bad enough without having to sit through it, then be picked apart by Alan Shearer and Robbie Bloody Savage. So, breakfast, coffee, then on with the boots and to the orchid fields we go.

Samphire is a fine place, but they don't put out ropes to stop people walking on the tiny orchids, or their dogs from shitting on them either. I am still trying to work out why people would take their hounds to a place like that, let them shit and just leave it? Not quite as bad as those who walk the countryside, littering as they go. Drives me mad. I think when we wander around I will carry a sack to collect the rubbish, then I can make a little difference.

So anyway, to Samphire and the ESOs. Traffic from the port was very quiet, so we could go down Jubilee Way and along Townwall Street with no hold ups, accelerating up the A20 to the turn off for the Hoe, then onto the tranquil place between the cliffs and the sea, and arriving at the car park, there were just fishermen's cars parked, so I would have the orchids to myself.

I find several flowring spikes, including a double and a treble, a real surprise this early in the season. Many more spikes are showing, so there will be quite a show in a week or so. At first I find no spikes, pausing where I was sure there were spies last week. Then finally finding one, then another, and I can finally say that the season has arrived! I count over 15 spikes in flower, and many, many others n various stages of growth. However, what with the popularity of the Hoe, I might not go back this season, but instead go to some of the other quieter sites.

We have a chore to run, dropping a concrete slab, reinforced with steel, to the tip up Whitfield; it just about doubled the weight of the car, and bounced around in the boot as we drove through town to reach the tip. WHat a fine nation we are, queuing up to use the tip on a sunny Sunday morning, dumping garden waste, old toys and the such. What a strange nation we are.

From there it was a blast along the A2 to Barham, and then across the fields and through the woods to the bridleway, park up and look for the second flowering species of the day, the Early Purples.

Up the slope, looking between the trees until finally I saw some purple among the blue of the bluebells. THere was just a few spikes in flower, and some of those only just opening, but enough orchid action to satisfy me, I get my shots, closeups, distance ones, and all the other arty farty stuff I do.

Quickly back down the slope and to the other side to check on the later orchids; later by just a week or so, but the lady, Fly and Twayblades are racing along, some already have spikes pushing towards the sky, hoping to reach the sun before the leaves on the treetops blots its warming rays out. I take shots of various rosettes, but jsut a few for records, then make it back to the car to meet with Jools so we can drive home for an early lunch.

Back home the sun is high overhead, and it feels warm enough to sit in the garden to eat the pork pies. But sill me has to sit inside to review his shots from the morning, so that's what I do.

After eating, we both attack the long grass at the edges of the lawn, and around the bed before I get the mower out to trim the grass once again. I guess it takes just over an hour, and the result it looks fabulous, with the beds in full bloom. We sit on the patio looking at our little piece of England, I open a beer which erupts like a beery volcano, but I pour some of the froth into my mouth. It is rather wonderful to look out on the garden, with all three cats circling us, and see what we have done, whilst sipping silly strong Belgian beer.

On the radio, yet more football plays out; Leicester draw with West Ham and then Arsenal draw with Palace. I'm only half interested really.

At five I begin to cook dinner; steam, mushrooms and all the usual stuff. It is splendid, as usual. But even as we eat, daylight is fading, and my time at home draws to an end. Again. Tomorrow I am off to Jutland once more, one final trip before our far eastern adventure. And a two-legged flight which will mean the trip taking just about all day to get to Ringkobing.

Sees you on Friday!