Sunday 14th June 2020

Sunday, and the final football-free Sunday for some time.

As this week fitba returns, for as long as it takes to complete the season, or until there is a second wave in infections.

We shall see.

I have quite enjoyed the break from football. There's too much of it if I'm honest, and it makes dramas out of molehills. Compared to real life, its distracting, but its not real life.

But I am sure I'll get sucked once the circus starts. In which case, I apologise for the footballification of the blog. Once again.

Sunday was to be a glorious day, and the plan was to be up at six, have coffee and go to Deal to walk to Sandwich Bay, but as it happened, we both slept in to quarter to seven! I mean, that's have the day gone!

That meant a change of plan, and after coffee, drive to Sandwich, to the bird observatory, and walk from there to check on the Lizard Orchids, and check on the Marsh Helleborines.

So, a nice drive over to Sandwich, stopping at the garage at the top of Jubilee Way to fill the car up, then along the 256 to Sandwich, with the sun getting higher in the sky, and little wind, it was a perfect day for orchiding.

Through the tollgate, and along to the reserve car park. The tollgate was unmanned, so we did not have to pay, but there is threat of number plate recognition software. We shall see.

The observatory has been closed all lockdown, and still is, though in the centre of the car park was a large moth trap, with that night's victims trying to escape. We park and I get the camera, but before we left the car park, I was sidetracked by a clump of fine Meadow Cranes-bill, much bigger than its cousins.

I take shots.

Over the road and into the large wildflower meadow, and with many good Southern Marsh at the far site.

I take more shots.

Turning left, apart from when I was chasing a newly emerged Marbled White butterfly, we walk to the meadow set in the dune slacks. Looking in I could see no helleborines in flower. In fact I could see none in bud, either. We go in, and I find the colony of Marsh Helleborines, unfurling their spikes, maybe a week or two from flowering.

I take some shots of the Southern Marsh and a fine hybrid before we leave the meadow, and head across the golf course.

Now, I like golf, at least on TV. But, how can I put this, it attracts a certain kind, and it seems in summer, that players can wear shorts, but must also wear long socks. Oh my word, the colour combinations! My eyes hurt!

But its their hobby, and they seem to be having a good time, dressed like a strawberry milkshake, maybe it brings all the boys to the yard? We should be told.

IN the dunes, clumps of wild asparagus could be seen, male and female flowers towering into the sky, but most of the male spikes had been snapped and eaten. We leave them and walk on.

Over the second fairway and out through the gate onto the beach/dunes.

And in the dunes, where careless car and van drivers had failed to park, were the tall spikes of the Lizards, all untwirling and twirly and waving in the breeze. How could you not love at Lizard? Even if they do smell like goat's wee.

We walk down the road, I was heading to where I knew there was a single Bee spike. I was hoping it would still be in flower.

Sadly, it wasn't, just too dry and hot, the spike was burnt to a crisp. But I do snap a perfect Pyramidal next to it, before we turn for the car and home.

As we were walking over the field near the observatory, from out of nowhere a raptor soared to a tree to our left.

It looked like a kestrel, but bigger. I could see a wooden nest box in the tree, and in a few seconds the bird lept from the tree and cruised over the grass: a fine Marsh Harrier, I had seen it arrive, I could have lifted my camera, and got shots even with the macro, it was 20m away. But I stood there like a lemon.

Gone in a flash.

I take more shots of the Lizards, as this would be the last time here this year, so you can never get too many shots. Turn right over the golf course, across the two fairways, with the ludicrously dressed otherwise engaged, so nip across, back over the meadow and to the car.

All done.

We get in the car, ramp up the air con and drive back through the town, to the by pass and back to Dover.

Dinner is to be steak. And fried baked potatoes. Garlic mushrooms. Small stir fry. And white fizz!

I get busy in the kitchen, and it all comes together at one, served on our best crockery. Jools opens the wine, the cork popped, and fizzed in the usual way.

So, with full bellies we laze the afternoon away listening to the radio and catching up on the i player with Monty.

Somehow the day really got away, and once I made ham rolls for dinner, and we packed up, it was nearly eight, and time for #wildflowerhour. And more time on social media.

I have a glass of beer sitting on the patio, waiting for the bats to emerge to catch moths and other insects, all for our delight.