Sunday 7th May 2017

Last day of the Football League Season.

I guess with that news, those few, that happy band, who ready my words will rejoice at those words and the thought that Norwich will not play a competitive game until the 2nd week in August which is like years away. Or feels like it. Imagine being to plan days out without doing so around kick off times and then the angst of another defeat to ponder over? Or have to write about either! Imagine that.

Yes, the football season is nearly over for the Prem too, but more about that after you digest this nugget: that I did something else rather than listen to the Arsenal v Man Utd game on the radio! Although I did listen to the last half hour on the way home, which only confirmed to me I made the right decision.

I woke at four in the morning, in fact I had been tossing and turning for a couple of hours, but I knew as soon as I woke up it was an allergy attack. And it was my own stupid fault, which is par for the course, of course. On Saturday I had a hair cut. The barber had put some stuff, gel or something, on the comb as he finished his work, to make it look nice. I had a shave earlier too, as it was itchy scratch, and due to spots I put a little aftershave on to to cleanse the area. And I had a shower, used a little too much shampoo, and put on deodorant. All of which, I guess, added up to overload, but then again for the most of the rest of the day, I had no symptoms of an allergy, not even a sniff.

All of which made the attack all the more surprising, but also avoidable. Anyway, I took some drugs, tossed and turned some more before getting up at five, feeding the cats and making coffee. And then sat down to watch the football, whilst sitting and looking at the birds in the garden too. Molly came and joined me, and so the morning came, Jools got up and I made bacon butties. Oh yes.

However, I did not realise how washed out I felt, and in a surprise move, went to bed for a couple of hours before lunch to get some zeds whilst Jools did some gardening, she came to see what was wrong as I was so quiet. Asleep in fact.

But I awoke, revived in time for lunch, and so celebrated it by popping open a bottle of Leffe and cooking asparagus in butter, sprinkled with grated hard Italian cheese and with the rest of the fresh bread from the day before. Oh and followed by fresh Kent strawberries and cream too. What a wonderful springtime lunch that was. And it felt healthy, if you know what I mean.

I had been keeping an eye on the weather forecast, and just after lunch the BBC changed their minds and said that it would clear late in the afternoon, meaning if I timed it right, I could arrive in time to snap some fine Lady Orchids and also see the Duke of Burgundy baking in some late afternoon sunshine. At least that was the plan.

I think Jools had had enough of orchids, it happens, and so I said I would go by myself and she would stay and do some gardening. SO I loaded the car with camera gear and with the radio giving me the build up to the "big" game, I dove down into town and out again up the A20. As well as concentrating on the road, I was keeping an eye on the weather, hoping for some blue skies.

And as if by magic, as I turned up Stone Street, there was brightness. There was sunshine. I just hoped it would last.

I made my way down the narrow lanes until I came to the parking spaces on the edge of the woods, there were half a dozen cars already there, meaning it could be busy with the Dukes. So I took out the 6D with the macro lens and the compact camera, and began to walk down the forest road towards the reserve. Sun was already breaking through the clouds, and on both sides, spring plants were in the vigour of youth, already looking so much different than when I was last here a couple of weeks back. Birdsong filled the air, and I was alone with my thoughts, which is not a bad thing. I had got out of the car 5 minutes before kick off, but that all seemed so small and of no significance now.

Up the final climb to the entrance to the reserve, there are two isolated Lady Orchids, well for those of us who looks for those sort of things. ON the steps into the reserve, there were several Early Purple Orchids, also looking their best, but I had eyes for other orchids.Along the top path, there were scattered spikes of Lady, some in denser groups than others, and many quite away from being fully open, but they still looked wonderful. In fact, I am now looking for the rarer aberrations, the darkest, and the palest specimens, looking in particular for the rarest of all, the pure white var. alba, with the green sepals. No luck.

Thing is I guessed (correctly) that after a long cold day, they would be cold and hungry and likely to be basking in any later afternoon sunshine. And that as I walked to the reserve, the weather got better, less sindy, sunnier and warmer, it was going to be perfect.

Anyway, at the far end of the site I saw a figure dressed in black, clearly looking for Duke of Burgundys. The Duke is a butterfly, one of the rarest in the country, and this is one of the few places they like to live. They are tiny, but brightly coloured, and show well against the foliage behind. I called out and asked if he had had any luck; one in front of me he said.

Cool.

Thing about The Duke is they like to bask, and so after a cloudy cool day, they were lethargic and hungry and cold. So, this male was happy enough to sit on a branch and sit there with it's wings open, soaking up the late afternoon sunshine. In fact, as the sun became stronger, more and more appeared, until there was maybe ten on the wing or basking. I had the shots I wanted; the open wing and an underwing shot, so I bid the other guy farewell and took the lower path to check on the hellebroines and the paler Lady. In the end, I saw no Helleborines nor no fly, and the Lady were few and far between, but still, walking in the woods in the gloaming, what could be more perfect?

By the time I got back to the car it was half five, well into the second half in the game, and Arse were 2-0 up, although the game itself seemed dull as ditchwater. As I drove home, up Stone Street, through Bridge and back along the A2 to Dover and home.

With me asleep earlier in the day, Jools had gone out to buy a couple of pizzas, so it was all too easy to have those for dinner, along with a pint of Black Sheep IPA, and at the same time review the shots I had taken. What's not to like?

So the evening was spent listening to the radio, editing shots and watching highlights of the final games of the season, and City ran out 4-0 winners against QPR, making it all look so easy, but we ended up the ten points shy of the play offs, and so now things will change. But, that is for the summer to change and put right.