Sunday 26th July 2020.

Final day of the holiday.

In our imaginations, we remember the summers of our youth, warm, sunny and never-ending. That isn't the case, of course. There has to be rain, and sometimes wind has to blow. Annoying when you have two weeks off and six days are not good enough either due to wind, rain or both to get out and do macro photography, or just walk and snap.

So it turned out this week, wit four poor days in a row. col and dark at times, and sometimes just not worth trying to get shots done, or do some church crawling as most non-Romney Marsh churches are still closed. Things will improve, and the then sun will shine again, just when we're at work.

But Sunday dawned clear and bright, as promised, perfect for a meeting I had arranged. The orchid group on FB I run as nearly 200 members, but about 20 are very active, so it is good to get together and share the orchid love and knowledge from time to time. The virus put paid to that this year for the most part, but wit the season drawing to an end, but so are the restrictions, especially outside, I had checked out the colony of Yellow Birds Nest a week back and thought the budding orchidists would be interested.

Before we met them at nine, there was just time between then and getting up to go to check on the Violet Helleborines. It was just six days, and probably there would be no change, but a bonus VH would be nice for the group.

We drove out through Barham and park at the bottom of the bridleway, the rain which we thought would have turned the paths into mudbaths could not have been that heavy, and although slippery, not too muddy at all.

It is a long slog up the down, along the path at the edge of the wood, then up the last steep part, but woth it, as the sun shone through the green canopy.

Indeed, as feared, the VH spikes were still unfurling, no further forward at all. All scattered among the mature trees, hidden in the shadows, just invisible tho those who just walk or ride by.

There was just time to get back to the car and drive to Kingston, parking under the old railway bridge as the group arrived in ones and twos. And at five past, the last one arrived, so we walked down the lane and turned down the bridleway, and in a few minutes the pale yellow fingers could be seen poking through the leaf litter.

They all take shots and are thrilled to see such a rare plant, and spikes in their several dozens, but in a small area. And so easily missed unless you knew what they were.

For the next two hours we wander through the wood, talking about orchids and other stuff. But mostly orchids.

We end up at the edge of a field, over looking the valley road, standing on what the track bed of the old Elham Valley line. I like railways, even long abandoned ones. We watch a host of butterflies feeding from a hedge filled with blooms, but time had gotten away from us, it was half eleven, and we had not eaten. We say our farewells and walk back to the car, only for me to stop at a single open BLH spike and see it had a green lip.

We all take turns to take shots of it, then we leave to all corners of Kent.

Back home it was time to prepare dinner: steak, garlic mushrooms and fried potatoes for us. I get busy, so by one we were sitting down to enjoy the meal with a glass or two of fizz each.

It was the last afternoon of the Prem, and Norwich were playing away at Citeh. I could not bring myself to watch, so followed the Leicester v Man Utd game, which was diverting enough to take away from the spanking City got. 5-0 we lost, only 2-0 at half time, but we end the season with ten straight defeatsm the worse run in the club's history, and every bit as painful as you imagine.

We're just glad the season is over now. Villa escape relegation, so its Bournemouth and Watford who go down with us.

Then there was the first Championship playoff, so after supper I watch that, and somehow the day had just about passed by.

And just like that, 17 days had gone.