Monday 13th July 2020

35th anniversary of Live Aid.

I spent most of the daylight hours of 13th July 1985 at a BBQ.

We had the TV on, I image just about everyone did, which is why I have no recordings of the earlier performers.

I don't think we knew what to expect, it could have been a shambles. And nearly was several times; The Who's first two numbers had no sound, I think there was problems for the Boomtown Rats too.

And it was hot.

I have no idea how those at Wembley coped, but standing on a patio munch in undercooked burgers was hot enough. We drive home at about six in the evening, which is how I came to record the U2 set. I think it was two numbers Bad and something else. During Bad, Bono Vox got a girl out of the crowd to "dance" with him. The other three couldn't see what was happening and just carried on playing.

I stayed up beyond the finale at Wembley, to see Led Zeppelin play in Philly. I don't know why, their re-assessment had yet to happen, and yet knew I had to watch it and record it. I switched off my bed room lights, turned the TV down low and waited until it was time to get the Led out. I even sat through George Thorogood and that was grim. At least it wasn't Kiss.

I read yesterday that Paul McCartney was 43 years old at Live Aid. I remember thinking he was an old man, but those Beetles tunes were OK. I am 54 now, 11 years older than he was that day. Now who's old?

I don't think Live Aid was shown again for many, many years, those performances, like Queen's, went down in Legend. They did put on a good show.

Band Aid still raises over a million quid a year, still saving lives, still feeding the word. Who said pop music can't change the world?

There are 59 UK species of butterfly, 57 resident and two regular visitors. Out of those I have seen, ahem:

Adonis Blue.

Brimstone.

Brown Argus.

Chalkhill Blue.

Clouded Yellow.

Comma.

Common Blue.

Dark Green Fritillary.

Dingy Skipper.

Duke of Burgundy.

Essex Skipper.

Gatekeeper.

Green Hairstreak.

Green Veined White.

Grizzled Skipper.

Heath Fritillary.

Holly Blue.

Large Skipper.

Large White.

Large Tortoiseshell.

(Long-tailed Blue).

Marbled White.

Meadow Brown.

Northern Brown Argus.

Orange Tip.

Painted Lady.

Peacock.

Purple Hairstreak.

Red Admiral.

Ringlet.

Silver Spotted Skipper.

Silver Washed Fritillary.

Small Blue.

Small Copper.

Small Heath.

Small Skipper.

Small Tortoiseshell.

Small White.

Speckled Wood.

Swallowtail.

Wall.

White Admiral.

And that is 38 resident or migrant species plus the Long Tailed Blue, so some way to go, and at least three of the missing 21 are found in Kent. So, Monday was given over to finding one of the missing ones, the White Letter Hairstreak.



These are quite rare, only laying eggs in elm trees, and after the Dutch Elm Disease of the 70s and 80s, these are few and far between. But thanks tot he internet and online groups, locations of the discrete colonies can be found. So it was that after breakfast yesterday, we set off for the Romney Marsh.

Our destination was a tree beside the Military Canal, I had vague directions other than that, but I'm sure it would become clearer in time.

We parked near to the bridge over the canal, I grab my camera. Outside the car, it was already mighty war, hot in fact. NOt a breath of wind, perfect butterfly snapping weather.

I hoped.

We walked along the flat area between the flood defence and drainage ditch. Frogs jumped out of our way as we walked towards the tree in question.

It was a big tree.

A very big tree.

Maybe the little buggers'll be hungry? So I began to search the brambles and other wild flowers.

Over the next hour I see many, many species, some common, but others such as a Comma is a rare site now, but all showed well, and I snapped some.

But I do spot a couple of very rare dragonflies, Willow Emeralds, unusual in that there is no blue on their bodies, just green. Brilliant iridescent green.

But no Hairstreak.

I look for movement. Something different. I fail to see one.

Once back home I find they were all at the top of the tree, feasting on honeydew from their favourite tree. I stare into the treetops and see no butterflies.

We'll come back, I say.

A short drive away is Ham Street, where there are even more butterflies. Top of my list is a Silver Washed Fritillary, and I knew these should be seen, as there had been many shots posted on the FB groups.

We walk between the dog-walkers and women with prams, into the reserve, through the wood and out into the open gallop.

We walk down, slowly, not wanting to miss any butterfly. What we see most off are Gatekeepers and Peacocks, the latter looking bright having just emerged. At the crossroads, there were two fritillaries landed on ferns. I quickly walk up and stalk one as it flew from one bramble to another. I get a single passable shot.

Shall we go? I ask as it was now too hot for butterfly stalking. So we return to the car, have a drink of water, tan drive home via Lympne (pronounced Lim) then to the motorway and to Whitfield to do some shopping. We had enough food, but a friend had asked for us to get them some large bottles of tripel.

They were sold out.

We make do with milk, strawberries and other stuff to see us through to the weekend.

Back home for lunch of ham and pickle rolls, and then to sort through shots, write blogs and fritter the afternoon away.

As you do.

And that is it, really.

I made dinner; king prawn stir fry and noodles. It is fine. Nothing more, but full of vegetables.

Then there was the League 1 play off final, Wycombe v Oxford. Wycombe win thanks to a fluke cross-cum-cross that loops in over the keeper's head. The crowd don't go wild as there was no crowd. Player are pleased though.