Sunday 20th September 2020

Sunday.

Day of rest.

And it was going to be a fine, if windy day.

And after my glorious success in snapping the Queen of Spain on Saturday, I thought I would go for another migrant, the Long Tailed Blue (again) that morning.

Jools said when wanted to go pitter picking near Westcliffe church instead, so wasn’t going to go with me, so after breakfast of coffee and fruit, I dropped her off and went to the Monument, where it appeared most of the camper vans from all over Europe were.

Overnight camping is not allowed, but angry campers destroyed the signs that said that, so people camp, leaving little space for people to actual park. Doubly true this time where the young couple in the converted van had emptied out all their stuff onto the ground beside their van, but I was going to park there anyway.

They had to move some of their stuff and the young woman gave me a dirty look. I took my camera out and walked off.

So it goes, so it goes.

Not much change from the previous time I did the walk, only that the year is two weeks older, and flowers and plants are pretty much at the end of their season, and in the low sunlight looked ragged.

And it was breezy. Did I mention that?

I mean it was really strong, meaning any hope of seeing a butterfly was almost zero, but I press on anyway.

I reach Kingsdown and check on the Gentians, most had gone to seed, and the single spike that was green had its flowers all closed as the sunshine wasn’t yet warm enough.

No LTB at the first site, and after waling ten extra minutes to the second, I saw no butterflies on the wing still.

There is a seat overlooking Kingsdown beach, so I wait there for twenty minutes to see if the sunshine, then breaking through, would change the situation.

It didn’t seem to, so I began to walk back. After about 5 minutes, in a fold on the land, I saw a good half dozen butterflies: Common and Adonis Blues, Small Coppers, Wall and Large Whites, but no LTB still.

At least further on the gentians were open, or a single flower was, so I snap that and walk back into St Margaret’s parish, taking the path through the wildflowers field edging, back up the hill towards the Monument and where the car was.

Nothing exciting seen.

Back in the car and drive home where Jools was at work in the garden.

I make a brew.

We have pork pie salad again, as it feels like summer outside, OK, feels like summer looking outside, where you can’t feel the wind. We stay inside and listen to Desert Island Discs, then try to stay awake.

And at four, the final stage of Le Tour, a cruise into Paris then 60km of going in circles after and faster until there is a blue when they reach the line for the 9th time and it is done. 3950 km I think was the length today.

It is half six, already getting dark, so we have supper and I have the rest of the tripel, before it is time for #wildflowerhour again, and I had dozens of shots to post.

Another weekend had flown by, it was dark outside and we were very tired.