The 2020 Kentish orchid season (part 3)

I did not tell the truth in my previous post, in that there was one more day in May, and it was on that day, I finally saw a Bee open:

Let's go up the down again!

The last day of May.

And the month has zipped by. Really.

And here we are on the cusp of the start of summer. Or something.

It was to be another glorious day, windy later, so if I was going to do some orchiding, best get out early.

And, amazingly, Jools did not want to come with me! She had planting in the garden to do, or something.

So, after coffee, I grabbed my stuff and was out and at the car park behind the old George and Dragon pub.

From there it is a heck of a hike up the down. Through the woodland, then up the side of the first meadow, up another track through trees until you reach a gate at the tree line.

From there it is a steady climb across two meadows, with away down below, the real world waking up. Two trains rattle along towards Canterbury, along the floor of the valley going towards the portal of Lydden tunnel. I turn back round and carry on climbing.

I had been hoping to see a few basking butterflies in the cool morning light, but maybe the wind was too keen, or that they are heavy sleepers, as I don't see any.

I reach the top of the second meadow, a brief restbite as the cattle track leads friend a shallow ravine, then up one last final short slope, and from there it was downhill. Other than the fact I would have to retrace my steps back once I was done photographing.

That's the way it is.

I pass a lady sitting with her dog. She was on her mobile, apparently more interesting than the view over the valley below. I beg to differ, but what do I know?

Finally into Lydden reserve, with a few Fragrant Orchid spikes on each side, none in bloom though. I had come out to search for Bee Orchids. I had failed to find any here a week ago, and at Sandwich Bay and Pegwell Bay, so the two unopened spikes I found back then was my last hope!

Also I could do one last search for the Burnt Tip. But of that, there was no trace. And so all I had to do was find two tiny spikes on the side of the down!

I thought I could remember where I saw them, but see none. However, I walked round a few steps, out of sight of the path, and there were two spikes, one with the flowers already dry, but the other fine.

And as I looked, more spikes, six or seven in the end, and all in good state and well worth photographing.

Which I do. Of course.

And after one last look for the Burnt Tip, I sigh and begin to walk up the down, a shallower climb, and my back grumbles less.

And before I know it, I am standing at the top of the two meadows, with an easy descent back to the car park, dodging the scatter dog shit and dog shit bags. The lockdown has made other things worse too.

I decide to go via Western Heights on the way home, as there is a butterfly there, and orchids, of course. The butterfly is the Small Blue, the UK's smallest, but a conservation project has seen them thrive above Dover.

I have to say, in all my time, butterfly or orchid hunting, this was the easiest. I park the car up Military Road, walk to the other side of the road, up the small bank, look down and there is one basking.

Snap!

I chase a few more round and take shots of the Common Spotted spikes that were just coming into flower.

I also get more shots of the butterflies, and am done.

And so to June 6th, where word had reached me of a quite rare variant of Bee that I had previously seen in Sussex and Norfolk, but now found here in the (Orchid) Garden of England:

I am the founder and admin of a Kent Orchid group on Facebook, which has 281 members. I created it first to share the knowledge with friends who wanted to snap orchids, but has expanded now to a large group of orchidists of all kinds from all corners of Kent and beyond.

Initially, it was myself and a friend who used to be the only ones who posted, but over the last two years, it has grown more and more vibrant. What this means is that there are many pairs of eyes and ears, looking to the ground, in woods, on downland and listening for rumours of anything orchidy unusual.

On Thursday, one member of the group posted shots of an unusual Fly Orchid from near to Hythe, I, like many others wanted to go and see myself. With the weather on Saturday due to get very windy, if we wanted to find the green orchids, it would have to be early.

Which is why we were leaving the house at half six, having had just a single cup of coffee.

There is a former airfield the other side of Folkestone, some of the barracks still exist, and although the land is private, locals use it, so there seemed no issues for us going for some "exercise".

With Google Earth and Street View, it is easy to see where to park, what the entrance to the site was like, and the route to be take across the old airfield to where the orchids should be. All was set.

Although, if we believe the Government, things are getting better, the roads are less busy. Even at seven in the morning there should have been more people about, but there isn't. So we drove into town down Jubilee Way, then along Townwall Street and up past the Megger factory towards Folkestone A few lorres and trucks were arriving into town, but little else.

We're a long way from normal. Still.

Through Folkestone and onto the motorway, past the Tunnel entrance, and nothing coming from there from France and beyond.

We turn off towards Hythe, the take the turning to Lympne instead. That's Lympne, pronounced Lim, of course.

We stop on the edge of the village, walk down to the old entrance to the airfield, no blocked off by concrete blocks. I get my camera from the back of the car, and we walk into the small wood, a path leading us to the expanse of grassland beyond.

All I had to do was configure what I was seeing with the top view from Google and we would be set.

This might take some time.

A path leads left, and runs beside the old runway, I knew where I was now.

It was a bright and sunny morning, but cool. So cool I had a jacket on! And as we walked into the light breeze, I did the sip all the way up. To the left was the new industrial estate, which I knew we had to go past.

For a site that had orchids, and odd ones at that, the grassland was a little dull. Just the usual suspects, and lots of tall wavy grass. But beyond the crossway and the pile of soil and spoil left over from when the site was turned into an airfield, there was a fine mix of heathland plants; birds foot trefoil, lots of red clover and other plants.

The path turned to the right, and just along here should be the orchids.

We just have to keep going and there is one right on the path, I say confidently.

I see no orchids.

In fact, I had seen no orchids at all since we entered the old airfield.

I think if there was an orchid spike, I would have seen it. Jools would have seen them too. But we saw none.

We reached the far side of the airfield, so had to double back via another path near the perimeter fence.

Still no orchids.

It felt right, so I walk between the two paths, and there was an animal track, so I followed that, so nearly stepped on a Bee Orchid spike.

Yay,

And just further on, right in the middle of the path, was a single spike of a green Bee Orchid.

I snap it, and despite knowing there were at least 5 more round about, I was happy with that.

Two weeks pass, and it is now peak Lizard season, so we head back to Sandwich Bay for some dune orchid action, and see what else we can find:

Sunday, and the final football-free Sunday for some time.

As this week fitba returns, for as long as it takes to complete the season, or until there is a second wave in infections.

We shall see.

I have quite enjoyed the break from football. There's too much of it if I'm honest, and it makes dramas out of molehills. Compared to real life, its distracting, but its not real life.

But I am sure I'll get sucked once the circus starts. In which case, I apologise for the footballification of the blog. Once again.

Sunday was to be a glorious day, and the plan was to be up at six, have coffee and go to Deal to walk to Sandwich Bay, but as it happened, we both slept in to quarter to seven! I mean, that's have the day gone!

That meant a change of plan, and after coffee, drive to Sandwich, to the bird observatory, and walk from there to check on the Lizard Orchids, and check on the Marsh Helleborines.

So, a nice drive over to Sandwich, stopping at the garage at the top of Jubilee Way to fill the car up, then along the 256 to Sandwich, with the sun getting higher in the sky, and little wind, it was a perfect day for orchiding.

Through the tollgate, and along to the reserve car park. The tollgate was unmanned, so we did not have to pay, but there is threat of number plate recognition software. We shall see.

The observatory has been closed all lockdown, and still is, though in the centre of the car park was a large moth trap, with that night's victims trying to escape. We park and I get the camera, but before we left the car park, I was sidetracked by a clump of fine Meadow Cranes-bill, much bigger than its cousins.

I take shots.

Over the road and into the large wildflower meadow, and with many good Southern Marsh at the far site.

I take more shots.

Turning left, apart from when I was chasing a newly emerged Marbled White butterfly, we walk to the meadow set in the dune slacks. Looking in I could see no helleborines in flower. In fact I could see none in bud, either. We go in, and I find the colony of Marsh Helleborines, unfurling their spikes, maybe a week or two from flowering.

I take some shots of the Southern Marsh and a fine hybrid before we leave the meadow, and head across the golf course.

Now, I like golf, at least on TV. But, how can I put this, it attracts a certain kind, and it seems in summer, that players can wear shorts, but must also wear long socks. Oh my word, the colour combinations! My eyes hurt!

But its their hobby, and they seem to be having a good time, dressed like a strawberry milkshake, maybe it brings all the boys to the yard? We should be told.

IN the dunes, clumps of wild asparagus could be seen, male and female flowers towering into the sky, but most of the male spikes had been snapped and eaten. We leave them and walk on.

Over the second fairway and out through the gate onto the beach/dunes.

And in the dunes, where careless car and van drivers had failed to park, were the tall spikes of the Lizards, all untwirling and twirly and waving in the breeze. How could you not love at Lizard? Even if they do smell like goat's wee.

We walk down the road, I was heading to where I knew there was a single Bee spike. I was hoping it would still be in flower.

Sadly, it wasn't, just too dry and hot, the spike was burnt to a crisp. But I do snap a perfect Pyramidal next to it, before we turn for the car and home.

As we were walking over the field near the observatory, from out of nowhere a raptor soared to a tree to our left.

It looked like a kestrel, but bigger. I could see a wooden nest box in the tree, and in a few seconds the bird lept from the tree and cruised over the grass: a fine Marsh Harrier, I had seen it arrive, I could have lifted my camera, and got shots even with the macro, it was 20m away. But I stood there like a lemon.

Gone in a flash.

I take more shots of the Lizards, as this would be the last time here this year, so you can never get too many shots. Turn right over the golf course, across the two fairways, with the ludicrously dressed otherwise engaged, so nip across, back over the meadow and to the car.

All done.

We get in the car, ramp up the air con and drive back through the town, to the by pass and back to Dover.

Dinner is to be steak. And fried baked potatoes. Garlic mushrooms. Small stir fry. And white fizz!

I was by now, on a weeks hoilday, as even though there was no travelling, and working from home meant no commute, I kept racking up the holiday days, so I took a week off as the lockdown had been further relaxed. Word had reached me of yet another Bee variant in Kent, this time near a reserve I had not visited before, so why not head off early and go for a wander? Tuesday 16th June: Medway. Day two of the week off, and I am full of great ideas.

In fact, I received a message on Twitter regarding an unusual Bee orchid, or two, in north Kent, and with directions to the house all programmed in, we were all set.

The Bee Orchids had sprung up in a couple's back garden, but their unusual colouring meant they found the orchids hard to ID. They turned to me, much fool them, and anyway, I dropped not very subtle hints about wanting to see them, so I was invited.

And as Ranscombe Farm was on the way, we could go there too. Ranscombe is a huge nature reserve, part of a much larger project in the Medway area, ensuring lots of natual green space for people to exercise in and enjoy. It is also a haven for wildlife, and has some very unusual flowers, including wild liquorice.

Which is a pea. Obviously.

So, at seven in the morning, we left home, cruising up the A2 to Canterbury then up the motorway. It was still rush hour, but not very busy, more concerning for me was the unforecasted cloud cover which meant my shots wouldn't be so good. Due to the added weight, I had left the ring flash behind. I might just regret that.

We cross the Medway on the motorway, turn off and are soon reversing into the last empty parking space at the reserve.

I knew where the plants were, just had to work out how the map corresponded to what we could see.

First thing we saw up the hill was a field full of Viper's Bugloss, a natve wildflower, beloved by bees, but usually seen in small groups, this was a field a quarter mile long, and full of nothing but bugloss. 99% were the usual blue, but there were two lilac spikes, and three pure white ones mixed in. And everywhere squadrons of bees were busy making honey.

We walk on, then along what the map called "the valley", which was indeed a valley, though really a huge wildflower field. All along there were poppies, common groundsel, bugloss, daisies and many, many other species, my mind's gone a blank in trying to remember.

There were a few dog walkers about, then there always are. But we make space for them, and they make space for us, and we bid each other good day, and all seems fine because we were all out enjoying the day and not working.

Which was nice.

Through a short stretch of woodland, and out onto "kitchen field", which was covered in poppies. I mean poppies almost as far as the eye could see. The sun wasn't quite out yet, but seemed to be brightening up, so maybe on the way back I could get shots.

We walk through the field, and on the far side there was an area of grass, and in the middle a grey/white pea-like plant was spreading over the ground.

This was liquorice.

I take shots.

And then we walk back, as the clouds parted and the fields of poppies turned red.

I take many more shots.

It takes half an hour to get back to the car, then drive ten minutes along the valley, turn off, and at a house on the edge of a village was our target.

We were taken round the back, where in the shadow on the wood just outside the garden, were several Bee Orchid spikes. Most were of a rare yellow lip colouration, a few being more normal.

I snap them good.

I thank the couple over and over again, but die to distancing, we could not stay and have a cuppa, so we leave and drive back east to home.

Stopping off at Medway services for brunch of a wrap, a pastie and a chocolate bar.

All the food groups.

And to the 24th and the emergence of everyone's favourite orchid, the Marsh Helleborine.

Six months to Christmas Eve.

Seriously.

Just sayin'.

And so begins the hottest period of weather this year. Thirty degrees expected on Wednesday, and maybe a couple higher on Thursday before it breaks in storms on Friday. So, for the time being we must sweat.

And although I did not feel like it, I did do a session on the cross trainer, and felt better for it. The experience is usually better than the dread of the thought of it.

So it goes.

I have a shower and am dressed and ready for the early meeting, which I attend whilst my glamourous assistant, Jools, makes breakfast and second coffee.

It was a usual working day with meetings, calls and the usual. Nothing much happened, only it got ever hotter in the house. One thing for sure, it would be even hotter in the garden, or walking the fields. Best stay inside.

The day passed uneventfully until half two when I had to go out for an appointment at the physio. My arm is still not right, so why not pay fifty quit for a Belgian lady to wrench it about to "balance" things?

Heck, it might even work. I hope.

Afterwards, we were going to go to Sandwich Bay to check on the Marsh Helleborines. But first:

We park in the car park, and I wait. I was called in, had to wear my mask, wash my hands when I got inside, then a quick review and then the pummeling.

Half an hour later, it was done, and at first, it felt great, as the knots and stress had been knocked out. But, soon stiffness returned, and I would have to try to use my left hand instead. I felt well enough to drive. I mean, being a man, it would be a pretty serious injury to stop me from driving! I digress.

We go along the Sandwich road, into Sandwich, then through the housing estate and random parking, to the road leading to the Bay estate. It was a glorious afternoon, hot, sunny and light winds. Perfect for orchiding, and maybe butterflying.

We walk back up the track, through the wildflower meadow, and once on the track to the orchids, there were butterflies everywhere. Most too flighty to be snapped, Marbled Whites were, but I snap a couple of Small Coppers, and chase Meadow Browns without getting a shot.

Into the paddock, and I could see the nodding white flowers of the marsh Helleborines. I could have waded into the middle of them, but there were a couple of spikes next to the path; they'd do. So I snap those instead, as most MH are pretty much the same.

But really, like at Marden with the Green Winged and the Lady at Bonsai, it is the spectacle of so many wonderful orchids, all waving in the wind looking stunning.

We walk back out, stopping to snap a few Southern Marsh, including a couple of pure white spikes near to the gate.

On the way back there were butterflies, Scarce Chasers, all to distract me from the fact we were hungry.

So, back home.