I mention this as I found something yesterday. Might not be anything. Might be something.
So, I send pictures of what I saw to three people whose opinion I respect, and one said yes, one said no and the other said maybe.
So, I don't know.
Except I know what my eyes saw, and what they saw was something different.
Is that clear?
I hope so.
Which is why I came be be on the top of a down at half six in the morning, looking among tufts of grass.
Hello, is it me you're looking for?
I had asked a farmer if I could look at a field of his, as it was the right orientation, I felt, so after receiving the thumbs up, I said I would be there early on Thursday as cattle were to be let into the field later that day. I didn't have long.
I searched, trying to do as little damage as possible, but for ten minutes I found nothing. Then I saw the pink sepals.
Bingo!
Where there's one, there's more I said to myself.
I saw a second.
Bango!
And on a ledge, just looking at me was a third.
Bongo!
I climbed up and saw it unlike its neighbours. It was something different, and yet, similar. Like two species mixed up, showing some of the characteristics of both.
Which it was.I took shots and left the field to the incoming cows.
Wow.
Such is the life of an international quality expert, freelance beer taster and orchidiot.
I had agreed to show a guy, Christian, round some sites through the day He had the usual suspect species in his sights, and I wouldn't mind a return visit to see them again. I told him I'd meet him at the Granville, and from there we would head out.
On the way up Stone Street I stopped off at the greasy spoon for double sausage and bacon for breakfast, and a cuppa, before heading on and arriving at the pub as Christian did. 
We shhok hands and agreed on an agenda, so it was off to Denge we would go.We parked at Pennypot Lane, and began the walk to the reserve, but I could see major works on the drainage ditches either side of the track had been done, and the rich vegetation scraped away and discarded.
I feel very sad about that, as some of the best butterfly banks are here. Or were. They will return, but maybe not this year.
We had to pick our way through the heavy machinery, then up the bank to the gate.He wanted to see Dukes and Lady Orchids. I told him I was pretty confident we would see both.
IN the end, we saw more.
Even before we entered the reserve, I pointed out the two Lady spikes on guard. He was thrilled. I told him to save his battery and card space as there would be hundreds.
Having snapped a good dozen Lady around the entrance, thoughts now turned to the Dukes, and although he had seen one before, it was just one. I thought we could do better.
It takes patience, but then I saw the familiar colour of a Duke, after several false alarms caused by Small Heaths. We followed it until it settled, and snapped.
I then pointed out a Dingy Skipper, which posed nicely too. He hadn't seen one of those either.Snap.
We walked round the lower part of the site, admiring the Lady orchids left and right. We foud two very pale spikes, not var. alba, but almost.
Snap.We had to leave the site by the lower gate and then walk along the lane as the main logging track was blocked off, we could just get round it by taking this. I'd have got lost ages ago, said Christian. I guess he's right.
We pass the guys working on the drainage, then up the hill the mile back to the car.This will be the longest and hardest stop I assured him. Let's go to PGD.
I have to admit in leading hm down some of the darker, narrower lanes on the way, just for effect. It worked. But is also pleasant, to have the lanes now as green tunnels boring their way through ancient woodlands. It was like being in The Italian Job, had been filmed in Kent, driven in Audis.
The car park was overflowing. I mean there's only room for four cars there, and three more in the lay by. I have never seen it that busy. Turns out it was the Hardy Orchid Society, more of those in a minute.
We paked in a bank, then walked to the site, where I show Christian a Monkey. And then another. And then another. You get the picture.
As great as they are, there's not that much variation, I have so many MOnkey shots this year, I don't take any.We catch up with the HOC, and all bar one were not very welcoming. The leader especially.
When I said I was going to look for Musk, I was told that:
They fower in August.
And not here.
Pointing the other side of the upper path.
I assured them that I have seen them in flowr in May before, but they doubted me.
Christian, having got all the Monkey and Fly shots he needed said we could go, so we did. Next stop was the Late Spider.
We drove to the Devil's Kneading Trough, allowing Christian to park his car there, then get in with me as there is very limited parking at the site. Indeed when we arrive a large Audi was there, but just enough room for a mini-Audi to get in too.
Turns out it was a memeber of my group, Graham and his wife, Mandy, also here to see the LSOs.We chat and take shots. Lots in flower, in fact more than there were cages for, so some when commando.
Graham asked if he could join me on my trip on Friday, so that was set in stone, and as it was half twelve, Chris and I went to the pub for a pint and some lunch.
The beer was fine, but the "deconstructed" fish and chips wasn't as good as I hoped. Still, I ate it, battered fish skin and all, though left the trapeziod of jelly, unsure of what part of a fish that might have been.
Chris was pooped. Three days orchiding and driving meant he was done. His brother in law lived the other side of the county, and instead of orchiding on Thanet, he went to Tunbridge Wells, especially once I said going to Thanet would add 45 minutes onto his trip there later, and staying there would save him half an hour the next for off his drive back to Preston.
And I turned for home, also shattered.
I drove slowly and across country, passing through familiar villages and churches. I arrived home at three, made a brew and set about reviewing my shots of the day.
Amazing day.
Dinner was to be chorizo hash, and it was all coming together well until I opened the drawer and found there was no chorizo.
I adapated, and defrosted some wile garlic sausages, fried them after cutting into slices, and made the hash as before.
And it came out very well indeed.
Yay, me.
I had a glass or two of the posh wine to celebrate.
My week off is coming to an end, but I have done most of what I wanted.
And that was that. Another day over, some excitement, and sharing the orchid passion.
Great, great day.
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