Friday 5th May 2023

Prayer Day (Denmark).

This meant that my cooleagues from Denmark had a day off, so life would be quiet for me. Although those in India would still be working.

And for us, it would be a three day weekend, though our extra day would be on Monday.

Jools went to yoga, for the first time in a month, so was up and about while I lay in bed, contemplating the day ahead.

When I heard the coffee pot being put on, I get up and get dressed. Now ready for the day.

I am ready to start work at seven, check mails and do the usual admin, and then, well, wait. Wait for something to happen.

Not much happened really, other than a colleague in India celebrated his 15th work anniversary, so there was a party in the Chennai office, and we were invited to join in via teams. Which meant no cake for us. The one thing I have learned from my friends in India is that no matter what the celebration is, its the size of the cake that matters.

They had a fine cake, pink icing.

Nice.

Speeches were made, applause given.

And that was it.

Congratulations, Parandaman.

I do an hour more, then pack up after setting my out of office message for the all of next week. Pack the computer stuff away, the laptop in by bag so it doesn't get forgotten when I go to the airport on Tuesday.

I go and sit on the patio in the sunshine, reading a magazine with Scully keeping me company as I read and keep an eye on the bird feeders.

Jools comes home, and the plan was for me to drop her at Jen's, and then for me to head into the orchid fields for an orchid-filled walk.

And that's what happened.

Jen wasn't home, but Jools would wait in the back garden for Jen to return from her weekly lunch date with John. I drove out and onto the A2 and headed west to Barham before heading out across country past PGD and onto Stone Street.

The lanes were empty, just as well as they're so few passing places, and where they go through woodland, the canopy is turning green as Spring advances.

I park on the hill beside Yockletts, grab the camera and set off into the reserve.

Brimstone, Orange Tip and Peacock butterflies were on the wing, as the trees offered some shelter from the breeze. Lots of Wood Violets, Lady's Smock and Lords and Ladies were in flower, and up the hill there was Twayblade and Bluebells, and a little further up, Early Purples. Numbers down, but still there, and three weeks back I had seen a single spike with a single flower open, all these were fully open now, and contrasted well with the blue of the bluebells.

I walked up the down, across the top of the lower meadow, knowing that the majority of the orchids in flower would be on the other side of the reserve. I saw there were a couple of small Fly Orchid spikes open behind the bench, but I knew there would be more a little further on and down in the shelter of the down.

Sure enough there was a clump of maybe a half dozen spikes, all with at least one flower open on each spike, some had two or more. All around more spikes were in flower, or about too.

I smiled. Spring is come.

Back up the down, and the Lady Orchid rosettes had put up spikes, but no open flowers, instead just looking like oversized safety matches. But there would be spikes open, and not far away.

Sure enough, across the road, there was a group of six Ladies open, some more than others, but I snap them all, because.

Further along, two Greater Butterfly spikes were a week or so from flowering, and on the other side of the path, Herb Paris was in flower too.

Up in the upper meadow, more Lady in flower, each snapped. But little else, and no Common Spotted rosettes to be found either.

With that it was time to return to the car, via the path through the woods where the bluebells were already going to seed. As expected, peak bluebell was when we were away, but we couldn't be in two places at once.

Down the steep path, secure with my new walking shoes with fresh new sole, so did not slip and slide my way down. Back along the lower path, over the road and back to the car, another day when 10,000 steps were smashed!

I turn the car for home, back up the hill, and down Stone Street to the petrol station to refuel the car and get something to drink. Then onto the motorway to get to Folkestone, taking the Alkham Valley road, I mean, this was quickest, how bad could the traffic in Kearsney and on Whitfield Hill be?

Bad. Real bad.

It took me half an hour to get from the station to the top of Whitfield Hill, then over to Jen's to find she had just dropped Jools off at home. We have yet to sync our phones to the crappy hire car, so can't take calls when we're driving.

Back home for a brew and the music quiz, and then out via the takeaway and instead of going to Jen's, we went to Jen's laden with fresh Chinese.

Jen's dining room is out of use while her roof is repaired, so John's was the back up. John lives in a terraced house beside Whitfeld Hill, his house clings to the down, has steep steps to the front door from the narrow street, then narrow step up to the bedrooms. Living there has kept John fit.

We eat, and then we play cards. Just a round of Meld, which Jen wins heavil, taking very nearly a whole pound.

By which time it was gone nine, and time to go home.