Sunday 21st March 2021

Although the forecast was for cloud, we were to go out plant hunting. Orchid hunting, really.

We are set in our ways, as are our cats, we get up early and they expect us to get up early and feed them.

Which is what we do.

The plan was to be out of the house by half eight, in the end it was ten past, so already twenty minutes ahead of schedule.

Last year, my good orchidist friend, Mark, told me about Earley Wood, where he found Early Purples in flower there in March.

Get up early, to go to Earley to look for earlies?

Got it.

It's only a quick blast down the A2 to Bridge, then down through the town, over the bridge, in Bridge, and then out to Hardres (Hards) and then to Petham and out the other side.

We park at the five bar gate, and see there is a clear, but muddy path leading on. We had our suitable walking boots with us, so I grabbed my camera, and we set off.

Straight away I see Primroses, Lesser Celandines, carpets of Wood Anemones (though most yet to oepn) and further on a few bluebells beginning to open.

We turned off the track onto a path that wound its way through coppiced trees, and on the floor were a few Early Purple rosttes, though most at least a week if not two away from opening.

At the bottom, we turned down the hill expecting to be able to skirt the edge of the wood and back to the start, but instead the path went through a stile and into open country, where four shaggy ponies were waiting to see what we had in our pocketses.

Which was nothing.

Sadly.

So they kept their distance.

We went back and went up the line of trees, and in about quarter of a mile came out into open pasture.

We had heard the sheep, bleating in ones and twos, but when they saw us, they all started bleating. One began to move towards us, then two and in seconds the whole flock was running towards us, all expecting something. Maybe the Gettysburg Address.

We stared at each other, the lambs and sheep on one side, and us the other. When it became clear we didn't have what they wanted, they drifted away, and so did we.

We walked back to the car, throug the wood and I saw even more Early Purples, though again, a good week or so from flowering. But close.

Back in the car, we drove back to Petham, then along the valley road, beside a winterbourne that rarely flows. Its never a flowing stream, more a leak, really. Sometimes in a ditch, other times just a hint at the bottom of a field where the water fulls up the ridges a plough has created. But where we turn up to go to Yocklets, it has flooded the lane, only to a depth of half an inch or so.

We park in the small space, I decide not to take the ring flash, assuming (correctly) there would be no orchid in flower to snap.

We know the route so well, climbing up the lower meadow and taking a reast on the old wooden seat, with its views over the valley to the flooded crossroads.

We saw no butterflies on the wing or resting, but lots of flowers in bud, just waiting for it to warm up a few degrees. Lots of Fly Orchids, and further on Lady Orchids too, and maybe a Greater Butterfly just emerging.

We reached the top meadow, and sit there, just taking in the birdsong and the warmth of the sun just breaking through.

This is a happy place. Our happy place.

We walk back to the car, and on the way we met a couple who were out plant hunting, and they also take part in #wildflowerhour each week, we make notes of each others names and say we'll link up, which we do.

We arrive back at the car, go up the hill and through the wood, back to the old Roman Road, Stone Street.

After stopping off at the garden centre, we go back through Bridge, back onto the A2 and home.

Back before midday.

I boild cubed potatoes, then prepare the vegetables, skin and slice the chorizo, then fry each part, mix them in the wok, finally frying the potaotes until they cubes are crisp and golden.

I have a bottle of mango flavoured beer (not so good), then sit on the sofa to watch football. I could have watched footy the rest of the day, but don't.

Leicester beat Man Utd, and well, so it goes.

Supper is chocolate spread on sliced bread I made on Sunday. I have missed nutella not travelling for a year, so I added it to the shopping list.

And it was sweet and naughty.

Yummy.

That brought us to eight, time for #wildflowerhour and time to post pictures of flowers, and before we know it, the weekend has slipped though our fingers.

But next week the clocks go forward, more daylight in the evenings, and then Easter and a four day weekend after that.