Sunday 30th May 2021

My spring holiday is drawing to an end. On Tuesday I go back, well, power up the other laptop, and have three days of data analysis to deal with.

But before then, more sites to get round, and it is a surprise, if I'm honest, that I am not going back to Bonsai, but this is due to the number of Lady Orchids greatly down this year and having snapped a Duke in Gloucestershire earluier this week.

Which meant we go head north to a water meadow in the Medway Valley for some Early Marsh action.

I arranged to meet a couple of the more active group members, Terry and another Ian, so all was set. Only I forgot to arrange the weather, as it dawned dull and cloudy, and if anything, got murkier as we travelled north until we reached the bridge over the Medway and it was downright misty.

Sigh.

The forecast was for sunny intervals by mid-morning, and endless sunshine after lunch, by which time I planned to be home.

We parked in the houses beside the main road and I waited for Ian and his wife, Anna, to arrive, meanwhile Jools went to find Terry.

After five minutes they arrived, and we walked over the main road to the tunnel under the railway where Jools and Terry were waiting, and after some elbow bumping, we go through and climb the gate into the reserve.

And as expected, it was very dampl, mud up to the ankles in some places, and a little overgrown after the severe cutting it received last year, so the orchids took some finding. And if I'm honest, I wasn't sure about the Early Marsh spikes we found; right colour, but for me wrong lip shape, but I would hold fire on being sure until I asked some others once home what they thought.

And as it turned out, they were all Early Marsh after all, so no worries, but this family of orchids always gives me headaches, as the main species can all interbreed and hybridise with all the others, making definitive IDs tricky. I have learned to just admire their beauty.

We walk on and see many other orchid spikes; a single CSO, lots of Southern Marsh, and then there were those which I suspected to be a little of two or more species. One clump was huge, darly spotted leaves and of a mighty size, I though a mix of SMO and CSO, but more likely EMO and SMO. But then, who know?

And to see those, a second gate had to be climbed, the others got over fine and went off to explore, I climbed up, swung my leg over and went to step down, but the step went on forever, and when I did touch ground, I put my weight on it and tipped back, and sideways, I reached out with my right hand on the only thing to stop me falling: barbed wire, and slashed three fingers. I fell sideways onto a log, the camera and lens making a crasing sound as they hit the log too. I ended up looking up at the sky through stalks of tall grass, my fingers pumped out bright red blood, and my only thoughts were for my camera gear.

Thankfully, both were OK, and I sicked at the scratches and slowly they blood stopped leaking out.

No one had missed me thanks to the wonderful orchids.

We went back, climbing back over the stile, using the bottom bar of the gate as a step and so much easier to get up and over.

We walk back to the car, and say our goodbyes as we scatter to different corners of Kent. Jools and I drive back to the M2, then head east to Faversham and Canterbury, or try to, but find the motorway bloked by a jam. We turn down the A249, but that is jammed too, so we take to the hills. Or down, driving through Hucking, then down to Hollingbourne, via a series of narrower lanes that went up, over and down various downs, past farms and the occasional country pub.

It wasn't unpleasant.

We reached Leeds (the non-dirty one), and took two right turns to get onto the motorway and then it was up to cruising speed and plain sailing until we reached Hythe, and then we looked for ways to strike out across the empty hinterland to reach Barham and a woodland full of Lady Orchids. We program the sat nav and it takes us down a long narrow and green valley, up the other side until the woodland looked familiar.

Here we are, I said to Jools, and indeed, just along was the hard standing where we park.

I get the camera gear out and off we set through thicker tangles of branmbles than last year, and the open canopy from the felling two years ago has allowed other vegetation to grow taller, but here and there a magestic spike of six rose into the still air, all almost fully out.

Perfect.

I go round, but pay special attention to the single almost pure white spike, which has grown from the edge of a small flint quarry.

I stumble back to the car where I meet Jools. I have managed not to have another accident for several hours.

Which is nice.

One last call to Woolage to check if the Birds Nest Spike was open. Bad news, it wasn't, but the good news is that we found three more spikes between us, including one having just broken ground through the leaf litter.

And that was that.

Back to the car one final time, and a lazy drive down the familiar lanes abck home via Barfrestone, Eythorne, West and then East Langdon and to St Maggies. I parked the car at ten past two, meaning I had 50 minutes to make a brew and review shots before the latest play off game; Lincoln v Blackpool.

It was a good game, Lincoln took the lead through an own goal, but that was as good as it got for them, Blackpool pulling level before half time, then scoring a deserved winner in the 2nd.

All done.

Dinner is to be steak, fried potatoes and garlic mushrooms. I have more beer to wash it down.

Beer is good again, but I haven't really missed it.

We tidy up, and somehow its nearly seven, and I have dozens of pictures for #wildflowerhour to upload.

The day is gone, meaning just one more day left, a bank holiday, and the sun will shine.