Saturday 7th May 2022

A couple of weeks ago, I received a message regarding a clandestine meeting to see a rare orchid.

I would be very interested.

Sadly, the rare ochid in question failed to show this year, but there was still to be a meeting, as a different rare orchid had appeared in the county, and folks were travelling from the Midlands and South West to see the rare spike.

Jools had done the shopping on Friday, so I could leave as early or as late as I wanted.

The forecast was for a bright start and then getting cloudy later, so I had better get on to make the best of it.

I had coffee, and as I was still full from the previous evening's Chinese, I skipped breakfast, and loaded the car with half the camera gear and made for Folkestone Downs.

Kent's top orchid attraction is the Late Spider. We have other rare orchids, but other counties have them too. If only in single figures, where we have hundreds and hundreds. But the Late Spider is found nowhere else.

I take the quiet way along the Alkham Valley, above the sun was shining golden light, if the orchid was open, it would be glorious.

I parked and took my camera, waslked through the two gates to the bank, and began to look. In the end I found the spike I was disappointed to see it was a few days from flowering. I took my shots of the spike, and of the Man Orchid spikes also on the bank, then return to the car and double back to Temple Ewell.

I reckoned I had 90 minutes to kill, and I thought I would have enough time to get up the down, walk along the top and into Lydden Reserve to check on the Burnt Tip.

As I climed through the wood, the good light was holding, and up onto the lower paddocks of the down, with views over the village and meadows on the other side of the main road.

Up and up I climbed, and being early, no butterflies to chase or distact me. I was bothered by an errant dog, whose owner thought it fine to run wild in a nature reserve. It made me jump as it ran to me from behind, but I left it and its owner behind as my warm weather training on Rhodes served me well, and I reached the cattle track at the top, before walking down to the entrance to Lydden Down.

At the entrance, there is a small colony of Early Spiders, darker than those at Samphire, so I stop to snap those, and was bothered again by a dog, but it obeyed its owners cmmand to leave me alone.

I walk down to the south-east facing slope, and lightly scour for signs of an orcid. I see none. Despite the season being already nearing peak in woodlands, on the downs, where the wind whistles, things are on a different timetable, and even the Bee Orchids look to be several weeks away.

I turn for home, not before snapping a fine Dingy Skipper than just landed at my feet.

Snap, snap.

I walk back up the down, along before walking down to the car park. The sun still shone, but clouds were gathering.

I head to Stone Street, along the motorway, stopping at Six Mile Bottom for supplies of a pasty and two bottles of cherry Coke, and a meaty treat for Jamie's dog, Tilly.

Jamie is something of a botanical star on Twitter, a force of nature, and he knows his plants. And then some. We had not met before, but I was looking forward to it. Also coming, was Sean who joint authored the latest Orchid Guide, for which I supplied some pitures. I had not met Sean either.

I got a text that they were an hour away, giving me time to park up at our normal spot, and walk through the reserve. I would tell them this if only I could get a mobile signal.

At the parking spot, a selection of fridges and cookers had been dumped, rather than being taken to a council tip, for which they would have been charged, so they dump it in the countryside instead.

There was just enough space for the car, and for me to get past into the reserve.

I stop to take shots of orchids and plants, and was nearly at the gate where I said to Sean I would meet them, when I heard voices: I called out, and was rewarded with a friendly reply.

THere was Sean, Jamie, Tad and Helen. Jamie came over and hugged me, and we all said nice things about each other.

We went to see the green Fly, of which there were two spikes now in flower. A treat for Jamie who took shots of the plant and of him and the plant.

He was delighted with Flies in woodland, not something he had seen before. But that was nothing compared of his love for Lady Orchids, which are fast approaching their peak. Most were photographed.

Along the top path, through the meadow, stopping to snap each Lady there too.

We turned off, and walked up the down, where in a hollow were a cluster of Early Purples, two of which were mutant, in that they were dispaying the signs of Pelorism, where the flowers had not formed properly, Darwin said:

"for the formation of 'peloric flowers'[1] which botanically is the abnormal production of radially symmetrical (actinomorphic) flowers in a species that usually produces bilaterally symmetrical (zygomorphic) flowers.[2] These flowers are spontaneous floral symmetry mutants. The term epanody is also applied to this phenomenon.[3] Bilaterally symmetrical (zygomorphic) flowers are known to have evolved several times from radially symmetrical (actinomorphic) flowers, these changes being linked to increasing specialisation in pollinators."

It was now past midday, nearly one, so I knew I had to be getting back, so I let the others take their shots first, then saw them stumble down the hill to the path.

I thought I knew better, and could find the path if I stayed at the same level.

As Hobbits would say, short cuts make for long delays. I fell down badger sets, got scratched by brambles, and took ten times as long to find the path than just going simply down.

I kidded myself I was an explorer, rather than the truch of being silly.

I walked back down to the lower path, then along, over the lane, and up to the meadow, and down to the car.

I had done 18,000 steps. Most of it on downs, not level.

I cimbed into the car, tired as well as hot and bothered. I turned the car back up the hill to the main road.

I had the great idea of checking in on the Birds Nests on the way, I was hoping they would be showing and the White Helleborines would be out too.

Over the A2, and parking at the former mining village, a short walk to the wood, and in the dappled sunlight, I could find no Birds Nest, and not one of the Helleborines were in flower, though one was close.

I texted Jools to let her know I would be home in 45 minutes, walked tot he car and drove through the rolling countryside, along narrow lanes back home.

Jools had just arrived back from her walk into Dover, so we had soms squash and an ice cream and some crisps sitting on the patio.

I was pooped.

I check my photos while I listen to the football on the radio. No pain for me, as Norwich were to play on Sunday.

So the day faded.

We had dinner and listened to funk and soul on the radio.

But we were tired, so headed to bed just after to eight, I read two chapters of the book, then Cleo told me it was time for sleep. So I turned out the light and turned over.