An orchid odyssey

It was March 20th 2010 when the seed of my orchid mania was sown.

I had arranged a Flickrmeet on the white cliffs, we walked from Dover to South Foreland Lighthouse, and our guide, Simon, said that in a few week, along the cliffs Early Spider Orchids could be seen.

Although I did nothing about this seed for some time, it did settle in a corner of my mind, and grew.

Orchids seem to generate a certain amount of obsession and mania in people. I know, it has in me.

For most of us, orchids were something exotic, seen in botanic gardens or in the sheds of eccentric distant relations. A great uncle of mine had such a shed, with tropical orchids hanging off pieces of bark, all in a temperature and humidity controlled double glazed shed in his suburban garden in Hemel Hempstead.

I was allowed in once, when I was old enough to drive and to obey when told not to touch.

In fact, I spoke to Donald a few months back when he called to hear about Mum, and when he asked what my hobbies were: well, I said, you might find this interesting, I said And he did find it interesting.

I acted on the seed in my head on April 22nd 2012, when I decided it was about time I looked for these orchids. Simon had spoken about them standing on the edge of Fan Bay that windswept March day 25 months before, and so the plan was to walk there and hunt. But, I had doubts. Would I know an orchid if I saw it?

I Googled Early Spider Orchids in Kent, and Mr Google told me that Samphire Hoe was the best place not just in Kent, but in England to see them. Turns out that is a bold claim, and a site in Dorset might have something to say about that, but I digress. Samphire Hoe wasn't far away, there was parking and had a tea bar. It would be a walk if nothing else, with refreshments at the end.

Nothing to loose.

We parked at the base of the cliffs, I got my camera fitted with macro lens out of the boot, and was about to walk off when another photographer walked past and asked if we were here to snap the orchids? We were, and the kind chap told us where to go and to look carefully. He said if we liked these we should go to Park Gate Down in a month to see the Monkey Orchids.

We walked down the path beside the railway, looking down on both sides. The sunlight picked out something burgundy, and looking closer it was a thing of wonder. A plant, the orchid, imitating an insect. Here, beside a stone path this wonderful little plant had chosen to live. We walked further and found dozens more.

Let's not beat around the bush here, I was hooked. In fact, I was so smitten, went to look for Park gate Down right after we had finished the orchid hunt there, and had a brew and bar of chocolate.

Park Gate is a small hamlet along the Elham Valley, and following the road through it, presented with a crossroads, we took one of the turns, the road wound through a wood and at the bottom we saw a partially hidden information board. This was it.

And as the photographer said, there was nothing to see at that time, but as we knew where the reserve was, we would be back. Frequently.

It was May 28th later that year that I saw a Monkey in flower. I had returned several times, saw other orchids flower, mainly Early Purples, but the Monkey was the one. It is a rare orchid in the UK, grows in Kent and Oxfordshire, but it is Kent where it can be found on two, maybe three locations where it is king.

The Monkey isn't Kent's only orchid speciality: there is the Late Spider. I mean if there is an Early Spider there has to be a Late, right?

The Late Spider is really rare, grows in three or four locations in East Kent, is slightly larger than it's Early cousin, and can be showier as the later conditions suit it better.

The first time I hunted for the Late Spider was a year later in July 2013. Now straight away that strikes me as being unusual, as July is now too late to see them in flower. As I write this on June 21st, they have all gone to seed here. A sign that climate is changing. This year, the first spike was seen flowering on May 10th, the seasons of the Early and Late were never meant to overlap meaning a hybrid between the two was almost impossible. Not now.

I went to Wye Down, parked at the Devil's Kneading Trough (don't ask), and looked at the expanse of grass on either side, pondering where to look. Two guys walked to their car next to mine, they were carrying cameras fitted with macro lenses, so I asked about the orchids.

Just my luck, they had been searching the down for three hours, found two colonies, but told me that one of them was next to a road along the bottom of the down. They told me where to park, and I went off to find the spot.

And find it I did. The side of a bowl cut out of the down had a line of orchid spikes hidden in wire cages along the edge of a path. And inside each was a single spike, most with a fantastic flower shining bright in the sunshine.

I owe my orchid knowledge, fieldcraft, to one person more than any other: Mark gave me all the information I needed to find each species. Without is generous help, I wouldn't have found what I did. Species after species was revealed to Jools and myself as the seasons progressed. It took a couple of years before I was totally orchid-focused, and 2014 before I did a "full" season, going to see all species I knew of, including the Lizard, Green Flowered, Broad Leafed Helleborine among them.

For this, I owe Mark so much. And we still share information of our more interesting finds.

2013 saw me sign up to a tour of the Kent orchid fields. June 5th saw I join what became great friends be guided by John, a wildlife guide, round the sites of Kent, and I think we saw 18 species either in flower or in bud that day.

2013 was a most unusual year, it was unseasonably cold until well into April, and so the first orchid spikes did not appear until the beginning of May. Early Spiders on about the 5th May, so the season was compressed, and even at the beginning of June, Early Spiders, Early Purples and Green Wing were in flower still. For my fifty quid I was given a tour of the sites, and as orchids pretty much grow in the same place each year, I knew where to go later that year and each season following.

One of the reasons for writing this post, and something I may have already done, is that something has occurred to me this year. Mankind likes to label things. Plants, animals and so on. With orchids there is a mania for naming oddities, variants that differ from the normal. So as well as seeing each species, people want to see examples of each named variant too. It's harmless, but does create a demand when something really rare and/or unusual comes up.

Over the years there have been many books published on UK hardy Orchids, one of the most recent I even am name checked as I helped the author see an unusual Early Spider. Another friend is having a new book on UK orchids published this year, and will feature some images by myself. In a break from other books, will not use variant names, but just will show images of all what is possible, which I quite like the idea of.

So, I have been hunting orchids for eight years/nine seasons, and so I have quite some fieldcraft. Some people demand we share the location of the things we find. And where possible I do. But, sometimes a location or the orchid is too fragile to be shared. We get accused of operating some kind of secret society where we are guardians of the knowledge. If only we could be sure people had just the desire to see and photograph the orchids, that might be OK. But orchids are stolen; dug up. Most will not grow in people's gardens, or live long enough to be sold on E Bay. And yes, I have seen hardy orchids, clealry wild ones, being shown for sale on the site. The sellers are reported, but some plants have already been dug up.

I run a group on Facebook, and the passion of the newer members has relit my own fire. Last year I arranged several meet ups, where the orchid and conditions allowed, and that was really, really enjoyable.

Mark and I are not alone in our orchid passion and knowledge. There is an army of other likeminded people, and our passion helps tracks how each species' season's change as climate change takes effect. Because change is happening.

Early Purples flowered in March this year, not that most could get out to see the orchids thanks to the lockdown.

Late Spiders now overlap quite significantly with Earlies.

Autumn Ladies Tresses are over by the time actual Autumn arrives. But some species emerge before their pollinators, butting their very existence under threat.

Other species are spreading over mainland Europe, and might soon make landfall here: the Woodcock Orchid (Ophrys scolopax) and the Giant Orchid (Himantoglossum robertianum). We on the Kent coast are on the lookout.

Things change. Slowly. Sometimes quickly.