Sunday 28th May 2017

It seems that Mother Nature paid our garden a few visits while we were away, as the garden and what was left of the lawn, all had gone crazy. Two days later, and we really still don't know what to do with it to be honest, especially as the Imperialis beds are now full of poppies as Jools was over-generous with her seed broadcasting. It was a sunny and warm morning, and the soft light filled the garden, so before Jools hung out the first batch of washing, I took a shot just to record the moment.

We have croissants for breakfast, then at nine Jools goes to collect the cats. Odd that I had given them only a few random thoughts all the time we were away, but now wanted them back as soon as. When Jools was away, I did a bit of gardening, really, deadheading poppies and clearing spaces around the climbing roses. I marvelled that even though I only seeded one quarter of the lawn with Yellow Rattle, seedlings are to be found in all corners of the lawn, and even growing through a gap between the paving stones.

And in the corner of the garden, the Flag Iris from Jools' wildlife pond is nearly four feet high, as it rose through the foliage of the Artichoke.

Jools comes back with the cats, and they have been singing all the way home, and all insist that they have not been fed since they have been away, so we fill their bowls, then the cats go out one by one, checking on things, marking with their scents and the such Normal service had been resumed.

After an hour, I say I am going out to visit a couple of orchid sites. I know, I know, missing those plants, like an addict. All true and guilty as charged. I take the car to Lydden to look at the man Orchids. It is now peak season for them, although many are stunted probably due to lack of rain through the late winter and spring. I climb of the fence and find the spikes, poking through the heavy ground cover, I get a few shots, but not many, just enough to show they were there.

As I walk back to the fence, a moth lands in front of me, and after giving chase as it takes off, lands, takes off and lands again, I get a good enough shot to grab a record shot, and later I find it goes with the name of a Mother Skipton Moth.

Almost as soon as I had snapped that, a blue flies by, and so I am chasing all over the meadow again, chasing the first one, then another and finally get one to settle down long enough to get a shot, even then as I snapped it another male was threatening it by flying close. It must have been fresh out of the cocoon as it was so blue and so crisp, I thought it might be an Adonis, but turned out to be a pristine Common Blue, still the first one of the year for me.

From Lyddon, I drive a few miles further on to Barham, not for the Lady, but to check on the colony of Lesser Butterfly, and as is the way, these are at the top of the down, up the bridleway. So, I tighten my belt, gird my loins and stomp up.

IN a clearing, I find four plants, two with flowering spikes and two that had failed to produce a spike at all. Then, a beam of sunlight broke through the canopy and lit up one of the Lessers, like a star on stage caught in Limelight, looking very much the star it is.

No point in going over the road as the logging has ruined the season there this year, I hope it will recover.

I look at my watch, half eleven, time to drive to Park Gate as I really should check on the Monkeys. And after going back to the Elham Valley road through Barham, it was just a ten minute blast down the road until I turn off and go to the down, where the lay by is full, but at this time of the season, its the way it should be.

Two weeks ago when I was last here, the Monkey were only just coming into flower, with just one spike flowering, and now they are all just about past their best, their lower lips starting to turn brown. But more are emerging, probably due to the recent rain which might just have rescued their season.

There were two groups of people in the far paddock, I was really only looking for Fly out in the open, and then signs of the tiny Musk which should be out, or near to.

I spend half an hour hunched, looking at a patch of ground for signs of a tiny spike or a lime green flower, with no luck. I take a break and walk to the far side of the paddock, find some Fly still worth snapping, but of the Lady and four Greater Butterfly there was no sign, all had failed this season.

I walk past one of the groups, having a picnic in the middle of the orchids. I think I should have said something, but let it go. Back to the Musk, and ten more minutes reveals one tiny spike, that had yet to open. But I found it. The other group come by and I show them the spike as I have overheard some serious orchid chat going on when I went past. They were pleased to have seen another species, even if two of them had seen the Musk before.

One o'clock now, which means I have just enough time to call in at Wollage on the way back home for some Bird's Nest and White Helleborine action.

As always, t is deserted, but the ground is full of Bird's Nest spikes, poking up through the leaf litter, very impressive and clearly another species that has thrived in the dry conditions.

And then there are the White Helleborines, which are of a size and number I had not seen before at this site. I take shots, then my rumbling tummy tells me it is time for lunch.

So I drive home, and Jools is in the garden, reading, and very happy to see me as she is also hungry. I zap some baking potatoes, then slice and fry them so they can be dipped in mayo. To go along with that there are various party foods; samosas, spring rolls and the like to go with the spuds. And in half an hour it is done, and with a cold beer, lunch is splendid, and filling.

The afternoon was full of picture editing, blog writing and listening to the radio. At four we have strawberries and cream, because, you know, they were there.

We were too full to have a cooked meal, so we have a sandwich instead, and at least the cats have stopped following us around everywhere, but still want feeding every hour on the hour. Or so it seems.

And in that way the day ended, just time to sit in the garden, in our shelter, looking back at the house, with stars shining bright above. I pour myself a wee dram, and am taken back to the Highlands with the first taste.