The 2020 Kentish orchid season (part 2)

It seems the easiest thing to do is to repost some of the best orchid days of the season, which is handy as the pictures are already embedded.

Who knew?

Anyway, we are up to May 8th, and the return of the Green Fly:

VE Day (Europe)

Flag waving and conga day (England)

If there is one thing to be said of the lockdown, it stopped street parties from happening again. Now, if people want to celebrate, that's fine by me, but there is the neighbourhood police checking as to who has and who hasn't been clapping for care workers on Thursdays: imagine what it would have been like with a freaking street party.

As I wrote previously, my Grandfather served and survived the war. He came home to a country with a social care service that looked after him until he died.

We have had peace in Europe, for the most part, trade and prosperity has thrived. And now that has been thrown on the Brexit pyre, thus forgetting why the EU was seen to be needed by Churchill in the first place. So, we would not have joined in the street party, nor did we join in with the community singing of "We'll Meet Again".

The rest of Europe had a Europe Day, we had social distance breaking street parties and garden parties, with nearly 32,000 official dead. What a crazy fucked up country this is.

But it seems fawning over Royalty is back in fashion, so the newspapers writing about what the Queen would say.

We had a street party for the Queen's Silver Jubilee. Tables laid end to end all down Hadleigh Drive, each house had to make some kind of food or two. I remember pouring Coke over my ice cream, running about then being sick. Seems like I was a critic even then.

We went out.

Seems like this is a tad political. Well, with the Financial Times suggesting as many as 56,000 are dead so far from the virus, and many of those dead in the age group that fought or remembered the war, it seems a bit odd to conga down the street as the mass graves are been prepped. But maybe that's just me.

And the mixed messages coming from Government about what can and cannot be done under the regulations relating Public Health. Could we drive to a reserve, walk and take shots, or not? Some police say you can, some say no. I follow many legal commentators on Twitter, and it seems that as long as the exercise is longer than the drive to get to where you walk, then travel is OK.

With several major orchid-rich reserves within our radar, it was a choice of which one to pick. And with these reserves, there are few houses nearby, and little chance of meeting the occasional dog-walker or other orchid nut.

So, after Jools had her yoga session, and we had coffee and croissants, we load the car with camera and tripod, each weighing the same as a small child. In future I will look into hiring sherpas.

We drive to Folkestone, then to the next junction to head north into the orchid fields off Stone Street.

It's been a while. And I was actually excited. I mean, really.

We park in the small laybay at one side of the reserve, reversing in.

We're here. I could not wait to get out and get snapping. I had even brought a spare camera battery lest I took s many pictures. I had formatted the memory car too, so pace for over 2,000 shots: should be OK.

There is the usual walk through the orchid-sparse part, but the path is lined with other plants, mostly still primroses, but then the path climbs, and we go past the Early Purples, bluebells and out to the lower meadow.

It was still cool, too cool for there to be any butterflies about. We pause to take in the scene before plunging down to the mature wood, where there would be Fly Orchids.

Other orchidists had marked some of the larger spikes with sticks, not really necessary to be honest, but there were some fine groups and one spike with six flowers on. I take shots.

Of course.

We see dozens of Fly, and a few Broad Leaved Helleborine spikes showing already. They'll look a picture come July.

Over the road and up the path.

There are a few Greater Butterfly about to open, and Lady and yet more Fly already out. I don't take shots.

By the time we get to the top meadow it is very hot. We sit down on an orchid-free piece of grass, and survey the scene, with Lady, Fly and Early Purple all within a couple of steps.

I take shots of some of the Lady, as there are in open sunshine and the lips sparkle. I could snap them all to be honest. I could snap every Lady Orchid, it would mean not doing anything for the rest of the day. So, after snapping two of the Fly Orchid spikes also in the sunshine, we walk on to the bluebell wood on the northern slopes.

And already bluebell season has come and gone. Most have gone to seed, and the woodland floor has a hint of blue, but photographs wouldn't have shown that much.

So we walk on.

And down to the lower path, through the glade that has been opened up over several years, where there are dozen more Lady Orchid, a few Fly Orchid spikes, many Yellow Archangel and two huge False Oxlips.

All plants by the way.

We make a diversion into the undergrowth, past two standing fingers of rock, whisper the pass word, and we find ourselves in the presence of the very rare Green Fly (orchid).

Two tiny spikes rose from the leaves, so small you could easily miss it. But Jools spots one, and I find the other.

I take some shots using the tripod, which made the carrying of it worthwhile.

We walked along the lower path, that turned into a magical woodland walk, with golden sunlight falling on lush grass mixed with yet more Fly.

We walk back to the lower meadow, have another sit down and watch for butterflies. A couple of Orange Tips are about, a male and female, but no Brimstone and no Green Hairstreak, so after five minutes we get back to the car.

We drive through Stelling Minis, out the other side and down the narrow lane, and via two sharp turns end up at Park Gate, so as we're here, why not check on the Monkey Orchids?

I had seen some shots of the Faversham colony out, so I was hopeful. But, after climbing up the down, weaving our way through a dozen dumped bags of god poo, we find a few spikes, but none open. Won't be long though.

We walk to the far paddock to look for yet more Fly and see if the Greater Butterfly were out; the Butterfly weren't, but we did find three small Fly spikes out. I snap two of them.

And we were done, so we walk back to the car and then to home. Roads much, much quieter than normal, meaning the usual lottery on the Whitfield roundabout was very straightforward and involved no sounding of the horn from me. For once.

And on 9th May: The current restrictions/lockdown was brought in under public health legislation, not public order, so any restrictions have to be looked at in terms of public health. There is no definition as to what is essential travel and what isn't, but suggestions. And exercise is allowed. And the College of Police published guidelines that stated f a drive to the start of an exercise was less that the exercise done, then that would be fine.

I know some who only cycle to a place to exercise by walking, others who have not left their village for seven weeks for fear of being in trouble with the police. As I said it is my understanding that, say if we were to go to Bonsai to walk to look at orchids and butterflies.

Now, you might not agree with my reading and understanding of the Statutory Instrument (SI) signed by the Secretary of State for Health, but these are my reasons. I believe we were no risk for public health either on Saturday when we did go to Bonsai Banks, on Friday when we went to Yockletts or Thursday evening when we went to Temple Ewell Down. I can state that we met no one on our two and a half hour walk yesterday, so we were no threat to pubic health.

All that notwithstanding, we did decide to go to bonsai Bank yesterday. Its a few minutes further drive than Yockletts, but would have the added attraction of having the Duke of Burgundy to see.

Saturday morning was very quiet. The middle day of a three day weekend, one where the port should have been very busy, but it was like always now, dead quiet. There were a few cars about, not many, and that is incredible for a Saturday morning. Most of what was about were trucks going to the port.

We stop at the filling station on Townwall Street, filling up for the first time in three weeks, and only now because of Jools; drive to the factory in the morning.

Fuel prices have crashed, just forty quid to fill up the car from almost empty, not that long ago it was near to sixty. Another new normal.

We drive out of town to the start of the motorway, then up Stone Street, meeting no other traffic. Like the rest of t'world had died.

We cruised through the woods at 60mph, enjoying the thrill of it, thus startling a small herd of roe deer feasting on the edge of a field. Once we turned off Stone Street, the villages were silent, no one out, but we press on, up and through Petham and into the woods.

Down a narrow lane, we come to the edge of Denge, and there were no other cars parked. Possibly we had the whole wood to ourselves.

It was eight in the morning, and still cool.

From the car it was a twenty minute walk to the reserve, down a good woodland track. The air full of birdsong, I gave up trying to pick out a single call, just enjoying the way the different songs merge into a single symphony.

We walk to the start of the final slope to the entrance to the reserve, and still, no one about. We see two Lady Orchids standing guard by the gate, then on the ban on the other side of the road, another half dozen.

This is Lady Country.

But it is all Burgundy.

Because the Duke, or Dukes, live here. The Duke is a tiny butterfly, wonderfully rare that is right at home in the middle of the wood.

But it was early, and cool. None were to be seen basking, I didn't look that hard, as I thought there was still plenty of time. So, we started to walk to the far side of the site. Five minutes on, a single Duke landed beside the path at my knee, and just perched there, basking. Too good to resist, so I get shots, and still it stayed. I stopped the lens down to f22, got real close, and the Duke just wiggles its wings.

We walk on, I stop from time to time to snap a Lady that looked interesting, or the light was good. But at the far end the ground has been thrashed, a neccessity as scrub would take over. This means many Lady and other orchids will not show this year, it looked a bit apocalyptic to be honest, but we know it needs to be done, or the site would be lost forever.

I try to see more Dukes and a tiny black and white moth, but the moth is too flighty for me, and so small too.

So we walk round via the bottom track, passing more orchid: Fly, White Helleborine, Greater Butterfly, Twayblades and Common Spotted. Some were out, some will be the stars in the next few weeks.

At the near end we come across another Duke, happily posing on the top of a sapling, drinking from a small pool of water. I lay down and snap it, getting fine shots of its underwngs.

There comes a point when you have enough shots of Ladys or Dukes, so I say to Jools, lets go home.

We walk back along the woodland track, and as we neared the car we see two dogwalkers behind us, the first people we had seen for the whole walk.

We could have gone to look for Birds Nest Orchids, but that would have meant parking near to folk's houses, so we don't. Instead we drive back, listening to Huey on the radio, and all is well with our world, though all of it has gone to shit, clearly,

On May 12th, it seems I took a day off work, as it was Late Spider Time.

My was the month of birthdays. Mum, Dad, Granddad, 2nd wife, stepson all had birthdays in May.

All bar stepson are gone now, and he has not made contact with me, nor me with him.

Life is complicated, and best not complicate it more.

He was born in 1988, making him, er, 32? It was twenty years ago I last saw on, on his borthday when he Mother, my 2nd wife, had told him he wasn't allowed to call me Dad any more, nor tell me he loved me.

At that point I gave up with them. I was not going to use a child, stepchild, as a weapon in our split, even if she was.

I moved on.

And in due course, I got posted, made new friends, a new life, leaf the RAF, got a cat, went to sea, moved to Kent, got married, worked in the wind industry. Got happy.

So all is good.

So, to Tuesday.

Market Day in Kings Lynn, though probably not at the moment.

With it being light now before five, I am awake before the alarm goes off, listening to the birds, so happy with their and full of the joys of, well, spring.

We get up, and once I had supped the first coffee of the day, I went up to the cross trainer and Jools went for a walk.

And as usual, the morning carries on. I make more coffee, have breakfast and am all ready for the morning meeting. And once again we are all well and in good spirits.

And then for my main task of the day: setting up my new work laptop.

First of all I have to back up my files, both on an external drive and again on onedrive.

That took three hours.

I switch the laptop off for the last time, pack it away in the box the new one came in. And for the first time I have an actual new laptop, straight from the makers.

I switch it on.

It starts up and charges the battery. I try to log on.

It rejected my company initials and password.

I tried again with my company e mail and password.

It rejected that.

There was a piece of paper saying what to do. I read that. Seems I had to be logged onto the company intranet first.

And oddly, I was able to connect to our wifi and as if by magic, on the third attempt I managed to log on and the computer fired up and I had the main desktop.

And then the downloads started.

I followed the instructions, managed to get a new password for Skype, then download my e mail inbox.

And that took 5 hours. Do I really need to save a decade of mails? I don't know. You can be sure as soon as you delete something, you'd want it!

As you can see, most of the day passes with me just getting my computer ready, downloading the saved files as well. And once all the downloads had finished, I could call people, though in Denmark they had finished for the day.

So, I would be ready for work in the morning.

I take off in the car to Folkestone, as I had a feeling that one of the country's rarest orchids would be in flower.

I could get to the site in 15 minutes from home, along the Alkham Valley, and then parking beside the road. There was just one other car and two dumped leather armchairs, so once I got out and walked along the path I met no one.

Just along is the orchid site, not fenced off at all, and looking in good condition.

I just had to look.

Look hard.

I found one rosette, just putting up a spike.

And then just a couple of feet further along I see an orchid.

In flower.

A Late Spider. The very first one of the season, the first of a few spikes, and I had found it. I could say there was no other flowering spike in the country.

Quite remarkable, really.

I snap it from all angles.

I was very happy indeed, that's what we call fieldcraft!

I go home happy, time to do some phys then think about doing dinner.

And on the 29th, we went looking for seaside Bees, with little luck:

It am Friday.

It is a normal weekend here in Kent, but a three day weekend in Denmark, so my colleagues are planning trips to their summer houses or the beach. They can even get haircuts.

Back here in Kent, we do the usual stuff before work: being a Friday, Jools doesn't have work, but has a yoga class at half six. At the same time I do some phys, have a shower and am ready for work.

As I have the morning meeting, Jools finished her class and goes to Tesco for supplies.

I suppose the last three months have been surreal. Normal but not normal. Some colleagues have been busier than normal, others not so. I fall into the second group. But gives me time to think and plan activities in the new year.

Which all sounds exciting, especially when you factor in the fun travel and things we have planned. Let's hope things are back to normal by then.

Jools returns at quarter to ten, so I can help her unload the car, but at then have to have a one:one meeting with my boss.

After lunch I have done all my weekly admin, so we decide to go out. Orchiding.

For years, our best Bee Orchid site has been in Pegwell Bay, so we will drive there, and maybe check the nature reserve nearby too, for SMO?

Perfect.

We dive to Sandwich, then out the other side to Cliffsend, parking on a side street as the area around the Viking Ship is closed to cars. But such things is legal now.

I take my cameras and we walk to the entrance, then down past the ship to the steps, which used to lead to the hoverport, but now lead to the area that nature is reclaiming. Only a new sewer is being laid, so in the middle of the wildlife are port-a-cabins, plant and cars. I hope they won't expand their job and do anything for to the site, as it feels very special.

Where there used to be dozens of spikes, I don't see any. Not a rosette. Its what happens sometimes, I guess. Three dry years have killed the rhizomes, and they won't return, or they might just be dormant. But no Bees.

I find the yellow Man orchids, they are less numerous, and I may be wrong, but there seemed to be less spikes than before, but they could have just dried out.

And no Southern Marsh to be found either. There was a large group that was increasing in the shade of a bush, no sign this year.

With gangs of youths shouting whilst they cycled, we walk back to the steps and the car, hopeful that the reserve would provide happier hunting.

A two minute drive, and we nip over the road and into the reserve. Where the paths would be dotted with spikes, there were none.

Even in the cleared area, where there used to ba a hybrid spike 27 inches tall, just a couple of sorry spikes almost crowded out by the field horsetails. No more than a dozen spikes on the whole site.

We turn round and leave or we would have been mown don by a family of six and their three dogs. We escape to the car and drive home.

Not the best afternoon orchiding, with most of my targets missing.

Sigh.

But it is Friday afternoon, it is the start of the weekend.

And on the 30th, off to see the first of the Sandwich Lizards. I even paid the six quid to get in. Nearly at the end of the month.

We should get out more!

It is the weekend, Jools had done the shopping, so no need to stay inside or have to do other stuff, so what to do?

Well, here's the thing. I am not quite as orchid obsessed as I used to be. I mean, I still like an orchid, but the idea of going out for eight or more hours treking from site to site just hasn't happened this year. Instead, just one or two sites on Saturdays and Sundays, and happy with the pictures taken at each site of each species.

Who saw that coming?

In some years we might visit Bonsai half a dozen times in a month. We have been once this year I think. Yockletts three times. PGD twice. Woolage twice.

So, with the main part of the season fading into high summer, thoughts go to Bees and Lizards, which means a reurn trip to Sandwich Bay estate, and if I'm honest, the three mile or so walk along the beach each way, being flat is very pleasant, and at the end of the outward leg is the thought of dozens if not hundreds of lizards and maybe a Bee or two.

But the reason for going this weekend are Broomrapes.

Broomrapes are an unusual semi-parasitic plant, where each member of the family leeches off a different host species. The most common is Ivy Broomrape, but there are broomrapes that feed off Knapweeds, broad beans and so on. Most are very rare, some are amazingly so. At Sandwich Bay, one of the rarest grows, Bedstraw Broomrape, aka the Clove-scented Broomrape. Normally, the height of Lizard season is just after Broomrape season, and all that is left are desiccated spikes.

So, a couple of weeks early, maybe some early Lizards, and some late Broomrapes.

I hoped.

We had coffee, and were out of the house before seven, driving up the coast to Deal, parking at the far end of the promenade, right by the site of the old Sandown Castle. From there it is a three and a half mile walk along the shingle bank to Sandwich Bay, which isn't an actual bay as such. But it was sunny, not too windy and not many people about.

Jools said she was going to take her time and do some litter picking, so I set off on my own, striding out, though with eyes on plants on either side of the path in case I spotted anything interesting worth snapping.

I was walking into a light headwind, but nothing bad. I made good time, though the first mile-marker took ages to reach, and it was covered in dumped dog poo bags.

Lovely.

I press on pass the golf course, where a small army of people are getting the course ready; watering the greens, putting the flag in the holes, tee markers and so on.

I walk on, finally reaching the start of the estate after an hour.

The houses are large and grand, but it is protected and they have some fine flora living there, so it is worth the effort, and I try to suppress my republican urges as someone seems to own a stretch of coastline, but there is free access, so not all bad.

Past the houses, to the start of the next (!) golf course, where on the side of the road, spikes of the crazy Lizard Orchids were beginning to flower. I knew that futher down there would be more spikes and that's where the broomrapes would be.

Of course that meant an extra mile walk, each way, but for orchids, it was worth it.

I snap several Lizard spikes, including greener ones next to the fence separating the public right of way from the golf course. On the dunes most of the grass has been flattened by visitor's cars, but in softer places the orchids are thriving still. ANd there were the brown spikes of broomrape spikes gone to seed.

There is one spot where there are normally two or three Bee Orchid spikes, and should be in flower. I find one spike, not quite in flower. It might open that day, or later. Or not.

Oh well. A two mile walk to see one small flower spike. Still closed.

On the way back I walk through the dunes, and in one slack I find a small broomrape undried, and after snapping it, I lean closer and sniff: a hint of clove!

Yay.

I stand up, tighten my belt and look some four miles in the distance where the buildings of Deal rise from the beach.

Here we go.

There were more people about now, most with dogs, but I am left alone to wind my way back.

I meet Jools mid-way between Deal and Sandwich, she had collected lots of junk from the baech and path, and now the bag was very heavy. So, we carry on back to Deal and the car.

We get to the car, turn round and drive back home, passing a line of dozens of cars coming into the town, obeying Johnson's advice that they can go to the beach. So they are.

We go home, open all the windows and put the kettle on. As you do.

And that brings us to the end of May, and what should be the end of the main season. But I was yet to see a Bee in flower, but that would change. And how.