And as my boss is off, I could not ask him for permission, si I took an executive decision, told myself I deserved a day off, set an out of office message and finished Monday evening, happy that I had 36 hours off, and with the weather improving, a chance to visit sites for the last two orchid species of the season.
That was the plan.
I slept well, no cats bothered me, even with Jools away, so I lay in bed until after six, and the rays of the rising sun woke me up, as dawn marches south now the mid-point of the year has been passed.
I feed the cats, put the washing up away and make first coffee of the day, first of all checking the weather to see if the fine start would last. It should, but I needed the sun to rise in the sky to get better light, so I edit some shots, wrote a blog and listen to a podcast before washing up and setting out for Temple Ewell.
Being school holidays, traffic was ligth, even at quarter to nine, so I sped along the A2 and down Whitfield Hill, then along London Road to the Old George and Dragon where I park the car, grab two cameras and set off through the woods up to the top of the down.
The wet summer shows itself once again with lush growth on the two meadows, although too early for any butterflies to be up and about, so I walk up the path through the trees to the reserve, where everything is lush there too, but windswept enough to allow flowers to thrive, and here were hundreds of Chalkhill Blues, a few Marbled Whites and a few other mixed browns and blues, but no Silver Spotted Skippers. I'm sure they were there, but not in great numbers.
Further along, I enter where I had expected to find the Autumn Ladies Tresses, but saw that cattle were in the paddock, although on eht other side, their hoofprits and pats could be seen everywhere. I search for signs of the small twisted spikes, but I saw none there, nor back the other side of the fence. One last place was the top of the down where I know one or two spikes can be found, but again, I drew a blank.
Even with that disappointment, the walk wasn't wasted as a walk never is, the light was fantastic, and I snapped a few Chalkhills.I walk back down to the car, dodging dog's eggs that the dog's owners had failed to bag, better than throwing a full bag into the trees I suppose.
Back to the car, and out through Lydden, up the hill to the A2, and a quick blast to Bridge, turning off and driving through the rows of parked cars that line both sides of the road, then out to Stone Street where the orchid fields are slowly going to seed.
Once through Petham, along narrow lanes, past the overgrown village cricket green, the pavillion now just a memory, and into the woods, parking under the canopy of trees, the silence hung like a winter's coat all around.
Quite a change from May and early June, when the butterfly chasers come here for the Dukes, and the orchidists come to see the host of Lady. Few other than dogwalkers, horse and riders come here in August. It is a very different place indeed.
I amble down the woodland track, well used by loggers over winter, but quiet now, and the pile of logs is now very small indeed. I came here later as I hoped the late morning sun would have illuminated the left hand side of the track, and the host of wild flowers there, thereby be full of butterflies. At first it seemed I was to early, as it was in shade, but after a sligh turn in direction and the threes were further from the track, sunlight filled the air, and inbetween were dozens of butterflies.
What I had hoped to see was a Silver Washed Fritillary, and I looked for the large orange butterfly, gliding, but saw none. Undaunted, I chased other species, and at one point, was snapping a fly, when something landed between me and the fly; a large male Silver Washed, just feeding and basking. I got the shots I wanted.
Futher along, just as the track rose up Bonsai, a larger clearing where there were even more butterflies on the wing, many of them Brimstones, and a couple of shich I managed to get shots of too.My lucky day!
I walk up the bank, hoping to find the small colony of Broad Leaved Helleborines that are unlike any others I know. Of course, they don't really move, so I find them. The one I'm really interested in is a tiny orchid, by Helleborine standards, has a sparse flowered spike, and flowers with an elongated lip. The leaves are ribbed, but slightly narrower. Elsewhere in the country you would (probably) called it a Narrow Lipped, but not here. The last Kentish Narrow Lipped was seen over 30 years ago, but only a few miles from here. So, who knows?
I walk though the reserve, and stumble across two large spikes of Autumn Gentian, both in flower. I take shots, of course.
And further along, the first Blue Fleabane I have seen, I recognised it from shots I have seen on #Wildflowerhour.
On the way back I meet a couple of butterfly chasers, they are just starting, so I point out a few species, including a Silver Washed. I mention the White Admiral, not expecting to see one, but one glides in, and poses, at some distance from us. They say they have to go, so I am left with the hundreds of butterflies along this quarter mile walk. I take many more shots, just for the joy of it.
I walk back to the car, and see I had done some 12,000 steps. If you can believe Apple. If they share that with the FBI, then so be it.Over the long dark days of winter and the lockdown, I have been sharing pictures of the Kent churches I have taken on Twitter and then on Facebook (in a churchcrawling group), it made me realise some churches I needed to revisit to do justice to. One of those was Stouting.
Stouting is at the southern end of Stone Street, so I whizz down there, turning off with only a vague idea of where the church was, but, unusually, entry to the churchyard is through the village school playground. Find the school, find the church. And as it is summer holidays, I could get to the church with no bother.
I go first to see if the church is unlocked, walking through the playgound, markeked with hopscotch grids, aphabet and comedy dinosaurs.
The curch was open, so I walk back to the car to get my cameras, then return to snap.
There was no one else there, of course, but it felt like normal. Before COVID normal, once you got past the QR code for the COVID app, but on hand sanitiser. I mean, this is what I did, before.
Happy wth the job I did, I drove back to Stone Street where I stop at the greasy spoon I had zoomed by earlier for some lunch.
I'm out of bacon, sausages will take ten minutes, and I've no sticks, she said. Been busy.
Got any burgers?
Will take ten minutes, she said.
OK, a cheese burger.
You want a double?
I wasn't really hungry but my moth said, OK.
I waited as the traffic zoomed past, then once it was cooked and I had paid, I sat on in the rear hatch of the car, and ate well.
Dirty, but nice.
From there, my last callw as Barham to check on the Yellow Birds Nest. I had seen to ones at the Larches twice, but not here.
It is just a short walk from the road, up the track to the clearing, and there are about a hundred of the little yesllow spikes, most now past their best and the distinctive duwnturned ends had mostly gone straight as the plants go to seed, if that's what these do. Some are in sunshine, so I get a half decent shot for once.
I was going to go to look at the Violets just along the road, but my feet said they were tired, so I turned the car round and went home.Four hungry cats met me, so I fed them all, then made a brew, and had lots of squash, I had kept hydrated, but best to take no chances, just as well I did as I got some gout-twinges during the night that never quite went to DEFON 1, so that's OK.
I make a chorizo hash for myself, try to remember it was just for one, not two, so I don't have too much, but then I had walked lots, nearly 17,000 steps the FBI told me.
I watch more ONly Connect and Sky at NIght through the evening, with both Mulder and Scully beside me on the sofa. Then watch some League Cup action as Derby Struggled to beat Salford.
Time for bed.
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