Sunday 1st August 2021

Start of the 8th month.

Days are now shorter, noticeably so, dark now at about nine, and we are getting up, on a work day, just as dawn is, well, dawning.

Being the weekend, we do try to lay in, and I make it to half six before I have to get up, cats follow me about, so I go down to feed them breakfast, then wait for Jools to wake up, so I don't put the kettle on until I hear her feet from upstairs, on the move.

We have coffee.

Then fruit and another coffee.

And finally croissants and more coffee.

I was buzzing.

And so, to go outside, to hunt for the penultimate orchid species of the sean, the Violet Helleborine.

Its just a short blast up the A2 to Braham, and then along narrow lanes to the site, due to the recent rain, we chose the longer path, as there was less vegetation to stomp through, so should be drier. I thought.

The path climbs beside the wood, under the eaves of the trees, looking like a scene from Tolkein, climbing all the while until we come to the dogleg, then slow down to scour the undergrowth for an orchid spike.

But we find none.

Further on, and climbing to the top of the wooded down, there should be the most obvious, most reliable clump. But there was none. Along the path where a spike usually rises out of the ruts, there was none either. To the right of that, there are three tree trunks with VH spikes, usually.

But not this year.

We had found none in any of the obvious places.

Oh dear.

I go to look in the undergrowth, and in the end find two small clumps of three spikes each. Just six plants. I was to later learn there were at least five clumps, but all we at least a week away from flowering, but there is too few, really, for a group of budding orchidists being shown around. I thought this was because of people digging the orchids up, but as the Lady Orchids on the other side had been ravaged by deer in May, I suspect this is similar, but shocking where once over 60 spikes could be found here.

I walk sadly back to the car, we could stop and look at the Yellow Birds Nest on the way, that'll cheer me up I suggested.

But as we drew close to the spot, rain began to fall, and so we went home instead.

We hadn't been home long, when the heavens went dark, and then the downpour began. It was the kind of rain that signals either the beginning or end of a storm, but this time it was the storm. Rain just poured out of the sky, flooding the back garden, the path ayway. It was dark enough for lights to be on.

Up the coast in Deal, a football match was abandoned as the pitch flooded.

It eased after nearly an hour, but the rain continued on and off the rest of the day. Jools went swimming, and I made bread to go with the caprese we were to have for dinner.

No wine.

The bread was excellent, as was the caprese, over ripe tomatoes and cheese at room temperature was just so full of flavour.

We eat well, and clear up. It was nearly seven again, and the weekend had slipped through our fingers once again. Outside rain continued to fall as darkness descended.