Thursday 21st May 2020

Day 1 of a 5 day (count 'em) weekend.

And needless to say, we were awake and up at a very early hour as our brains wake us up when the sun rises.

But that means we could be out of the house very early, and on our way to a very spacial meadow. All meadows are special, but Kentish freshwater meadows are now very rare, apart from this one there might not be another.

The reason for going, and you won't be surprised, is to see an orchid. Trips out of East Kent are rare for orchids, but for the Early Marsh I am more than willing to make an excuse. Early Marsh are not that rare, nationally, but in Kent, most habitat has been drained for housing or industry. So, having seen photos of the spikes beginning to open online earlier in the week, its about time we paid our annual visit.

We were out of the house by half six, having had coffee. We would get breakfast at the filling station near the reserve we said. And park there for half an hour.

So we thought.

After a mostly uneventful journey up the A2 to the motorway, with just one lady driver who seemed to think indicators were for everyone else but her. She glared at me after I pass her having given her both barrels of the Audi headlights. I indicated I wanted to pass, she drifted over to block me off.

Anyway, we reach the motorway, then cruise up in lighter rush hour traffic, past Faversham and the Medway Towns, over the river before turning off and driving down the Medway valley through Cuxton.

Only to find the garage closed.

We park in a residential area nearby, away from houses so not to be trouble, grab my camera and we cross the road, walk through the industrial estate, past loading bays and stores of a distribution company. Through the underpass under the railway, and the sounds of the modern world left far behind.

We climb over the five bar gate, and into the water meadow, the soil a partially dried mud that we could just about get through.

We pass by a couple of ragged robin plants, fairly unusual in Kent, so I take shots. And then across the reserve, sticking to the poorly marked path leading to the far side where the orchids could be found.

And we find orchids. Including nearly a dozen Early Marsh, a huge increase on previous years. I snap most of them and the Southern Marsh there too. Although the CSOs were not in flower, but close.

We wander back, looking at each spike, taking shots so not to miss anything.

We walk back to the gate, climb back over and start to walk back to the car. Jools sees that the garage was open, so goes to get breakfast while I go to collect the car and will meet her back there.

Instead of eating in the car, we drive back towards the motorway, but stop at Ranscombe Farm and walk to the overlook with the river and viaducts leaping over the lazy water. We sit on the grass bank to eat, while a couple of Javelins zoom by.

I try to grab a shot with the compact.

After we had eaten, we walk back to the car and begin the trip hme, during which I had planned two or three further stops because orchids.

What were you expecting?

Next up was Stockbury, where I hoped to see the increasingly rare Lesser Butterfly.

Parking at reserves is tricky, not so bad now some of the lockdown has been lifted, but I make sure we park away from any houses, leaving us with a short hike up the lane to the reserve, and on the way I spot two Ivry Broomrape spikes, another fairly uncommon plant, one that leaches off ivy so need not photosynthesise.

Impressed, huh?

I snap those, then we walk up to the reserve, where just about every bluebell had gone to seed, and all that is left is dried spikes and collapsed leaves laying like seaweed on the ground. There's always next year.

We walk round, down the slip and into the lower meadow where there I spy an orchid. A butterfly orchid. Several butterfly orchids. Six butterfly orchids, all lessers.

Which is great. Up from just the one last year!

I take shots. Of course.

Further along are dozens of Lady, most just going over, showing how crazy early everything has been. I just take a group shot of three spikes looking good. We walk onto the lower road, now cleared of flytipped rubbish, and blocked off both ends well enough now to stop more dumping. The road is covered with an inch of dry leaves, turning the modern world back to nature.

Along the lane we find 31 Broad Leaved Heleborine spikes, which will be the highlight come July. But for now, a game to play in spotting them in the undergrowth.

Last call is back in Woolage to search for the Birdsnest.

I checked previous year's shots, and some years they showed late, so maybe we would find them?

Maybe not.

We park on the road, and search all at the east end of the wood, but find no sign.

Sigh.

But the White Helleborines are thriving, including one with three very open lips, which is unheard of. I take shots just to make sure, and another of a pale spike which I think is a var. chloriantha.

Or not.

And that is that.

So, back to the car for the final leg home, but going to visit Jen as I had not seen her in weeks. Anyway, she was in the process of getting a refund back from the cruise, so we sort ours out too, meaning we would no longer be in debt.

Which is nice.

Other than that, we are all well, though just wanting to get back to normal, if we just knew what normal would be.

We go home for lunch, and then a lazy afternoon spent in the sun (its too hot) and inside (its too cold) until it was time to cook dinner, which I tried some crossover cuisine: courgette AND aubergine fritters. Which come out very well I have to say. There was quite a pile, but we did make them all vanish.

The evening is made of Uckers and March Riley, until i decide at twenty to seven I needed to make a baked cheesecake, and as the baking part takes four hours, it was going to be a long evening.

I make the base, digestives, melted butter and sugar, then I mix up the filling; cream cheese, sour cream, eggs, sugar, vanilla seeds and extract.

It goes in the oven at half seven.

Four hours to kill.

There is radio, and sloe gin.

And sitting in the back garden under dark skies whilst a badger eats peanuts loudly out of view.

He is happy with the way the evening turned out.

And dead on half eleven, I turn the oven off and go to bed, slightly tipsy fart. And sleep soundly with Scully beside me.