Wednesday 22nd July 2020

You will be glad to know that we have reached the current end to how many orchid sites we can visit. At least until the few remaining spikes decide to open.

Meaning that leaves us with butterflies and other plants. Butterflies are not plants, by the way.

And Wednesday was going to be warm, and it had been a while since we or even me on me own had walked to the Dip and beyond. So a plan was hatched: coffee and breakfast, then out and walk. One foot in front of the other until we reached our destination, at which point we will turn round and come back.

Its been a while.

But at half seven , we set off, bound for Kingsdown Leas so I could butterfly hunt.

I would tick most boxes I set out to tick.

Which was nice.

The path over the fields is very overgrown, but there was a way through.

The piglets are proper porkers now, and a trip to the market can't be far off.

Then down Norway Drove to The Dip, making its fan club very, very happy.

Now, I am often set in my ways, going the same way over and over again, maybe because one time I saw a butterfly or plant, so I might see it again. But then I wouldn't see anything new, would I?

I say to Jools, instead of walking over the downs to the Monument then down along the cliffs, maybe we should go via Barrow Mount instead? Which we do.

Turns out this is the most direct way to Kingsdown, and cuts out two climbs in each directtion too, thus saving our legs. Or my legs. We could also check on more hedgerows and so more sloe bushes.

On the way out the golf course was empty, with just staff going round putting flags in holes, generally getting the course ready for the golfers.

All along there were butterflies: Wall Browns, Gatekeepers, Large and Small Whites, all busy feeding on the hedgerow plants.

And I saws of nice flora to snap too, including some very fine harebells, all bobbing in the gentle breeze.

Down past the golf course and onto the Leas, where I spot the first, and only, Chalkhill, a male basking in the sunshine. I snap him.

Jools also spots what looks like a small Common Blue but turned out to be a fresh Small Blue, that also basked well.

Two nice Common Blues, a male and female, were feeding and basking, and so napped too.

I did look in the everlasting pea for Long Tailed Blues, but none seen. They look the same as the flower heads once they close, so they can only be spotted it they move.

And back again, the same way, though this time with golfers.

The sound of metal, or carbon fibre, on plastic.

And once back on Barrow Mount it was pretty much downhill all the way. I tell my back this so it might stop grumbling.

Jools strode ahead as the final push back up the Dip would mean I would have to take my time, so she left me to wander back on my own and get further distracted by even more butterflies.

I was chasing a Brown Argus when a train of four ponies with riders clip clop by. We pass the time of day, and I was up the last slope, past the chickens and lambs of Fleet House, then back past the butterfly glade, across the fields to home, where there was a large glass of iced squash waiting for me.

Which was very welcome.

We both said our legs were achy breaky.

In truth we had been out three hours, but had done it, and I was painfree for much of the time, just that last slope that caused my back to break out the DEFCON 1 complaints.

We have lunch, brews. More brews.

It was too hot to sit outside, so we laze around the house. Or I do. Jools goes to have a snooze on the patio. Or would have done, but Mulder followed her down the garden and would not let her be.

The evening was taken with yet more football. But don't fret, the season is nearly over. Only it isn't, but I don't get European games, so no need to worry.

I watch West Ham draw with Man Utd. I think that was it. Then the final games of the Championship, where it was a race between WBA and Brentford for the last automatic promotion spot.

It was tense stuff, WBA drew 2-2 and had to hope Brentford did not win, as they were drawing 1-1. There was a last twist in the tail as Brentford concede in injury time, and so Albion players go wild.

I leave them to it and go to bed.

All this relaxation is so tiring.