Saturday 11th July 2020

Today would have been a rest day anyway, but we have killed the cross trainer, so we will have to walk, walk until our legs fall off.

But I hope it won't come to that.

So, with 17 days (count 'em) days to fill, how best to start. I thought about it, though not too long, and Jools was stunned to learn we would be hunting orchids.

It was going to be a perfect summer day for orchiding; sunny and light winds. As it is near the end of the season, choices are limited, so it was going to be Helleborines. Perfect place was The Larches near Maidstone, then nip back along the A2 to hunt for more Helleborines, and maybe Yellow Bird's Nest near Barham.

Sounded perfect.

We left at eight, driving through the town and up the A20 to Folkestone, then up the motorway to Maidstone. Traffic flowed well, and we made good time. I was in high spirits, the radio played cool tunes and I was already anticipating what we might see on our walk.

We pulled off the A249, down the quiet country lane, parking at the entrance to the reserve. There was no other people about.

Perfect.

I have to admit to a little cheating, I had seen members of the group posing shots from the reserve, so I knew some were in flower, so the journey was never going to be wasted, but how many, and would there be any nice rarities? Part of the fun is the anticipation, walking through the woodland, on the track, sloping downhill, and the first glimpse of the meadow beyond.

First up was a diversion to look for the Yellow Bird's Nests, a parasitic plant that had shown here two years in a row, but this year; nothing.

So, back to the meadow.

Jools said to go up the soth side, then in the top gate as last time she found several BLH spikes, so we would see if any were in flower. One was, though in deep shade as it was still morning, and the spike was waiting for the sun to move round to the west. Its colours were muted, but the spike tightly packed with flowers, with the obligatory drunken wasp staggering from one flower to the other.

Further on, in the bright sunshine, just a handful of spikes were partially open, and numbers of total spikes is well don on last year. So I take shots of the few that were out, including one spike that had been damaged twice during emerging so it was in the shape of a letter zed.

We walk back, crowds of butterflies, wasps and crickets flutter and scamper before us, back to the paddock gate and the path back to the car.

The only other call was at Barham on the way back, to check on the woodland BLH and look against for the rare Yellow Bird's Nest. A parasitic plant which is very rare. It showed down a track last year, a friend stumbled across it, and the colony seemed too large to just fade after one season.

We park down a narrow lane, and after putting the ring flash on the camera, we walk down a dark bridleway, into the gloom of a beech wood, searching on both sides for Broad Leaved Helleborines. We find some pikes, most at least two weeks away from flowering, which wasn't that surprising after what we saw at the first site.

I had just about given up on the Yellow Bird's Nest, when poking through some thick leaf litter was the unmistakeable shapes of the "Dutchman's Pipes". There was about a hundred spikes, many still emerging like the periscope of a small yellow submarine.

I lay down to get shots, as I do, a woman walks past asking if I was OK. I explain I was photographing a rare plant. "That's nice". And walked off.

We go back to the car and drive back to the A2 and then to Dover and home, as it was getting near to lunch time, and the snakes were complaining. The snakes in our stomachs (bigger than worms)!

And to ruin my day, Norwich were up to play at half twelve, against West Ham, and needing to win to avoid being relegated that day.

Let me say, it did not go well. With the season resting on the game, Norwich went to pieces, conceded four, and that was that. As I wrote yesterday, we knew it was going to happen, at least the pain will stop now.

I went to see Jools in the garden, and the sun was shining, the birds singing. Football isn't everything.

Which I knew.

We had lunch, calzone pizza, which was something of an experiment, but came out OK, because pizza.

So, at six we went to Jen's to play cards, picking up John on the way.

Life is returning to normal, and yet is a long way from normal. We want to go to Belgium, but should we? Is it allowed for a day trip? We don't know.

We play on, Jools wins everything. I mean scoops the small pots on Queenie, and then takes the massive pot for the four-in-a-row run pot.

We drive home, dropping John off.

We stop off on the down above the house to stare into the northern skies to look for the new comet, Neowise. I look and look, and see a smudge in the sky, so I decide I want to take shots of it. So, Jools takes us back down the hill to the house. I put the big lens on the camera, find the tripod and we drive back up the hill.

So we stand beside the main road as cars motor by at sixty as I take a series of underwheming shots. I know what I did wrong, and will go back tonight.

But the comet hung in the sky like a spectral bride with her train being blown in the solar wind for millions of miles. It hangs there while the sky turns behind it.