Thursday 19th March 2026

Before I was born, the Large tortoiseshell butterfly was declared extinct in the UK.

Numbers had fallen for years, maybe due to Dutch elm disease, or something else.

A once common sight in the south of England, gone forever.

A few years back, news of a potential breeding colony was reported on the Isle of Portland in Dorset, with sightings of its caterpillars.

Such sightings were put down to migration or captive release, but sightings spread. To the Isle of Wight, Sussex and then to Kent.

A large wood on the edge of the Romney Marsh held two populations, and as the butterflies emerge from hibernation in late February or early March, it seemed a good idea to go on the warmest sunniest day of the year.

I spoke with the butterfly whisperer, Fran, and she said she would come along and guide me to at least one of the sites, and maybe we would get lucky.

On the 9th March this year, the charity, Butterfly Conservation, changed the status of the Large tortoiseshell from "migrant" to "resident", a change that predates the charity itself.

I am sure I saw one over by Fleet House a few years back. A large orange and brown butterfly that glided rather than fluttered, could really not be anything else. If only I got a picture.

So to Thursday.

Being a Thursday, it was up with the larks, and as it was getting light, so to be leaving the house just before six to get our session done.

I had a new pair of "over-ear" headphones to try out. Although they were sweaty, the sound was fine, and I had a good session, if the time did drag.

Back home for a shower and get dressed, have breakfast, so that come nine, I was ready to meet Fran at the station, and drive us to Orlestone.

I know Kent either through orchids or churches, so I could get us within a couple of miles of the wood, but then let the phone do the hard work to get us to the reserve car park.

From there it was a ten minute walk to one of the four gallops created through the wood, and along these the butterflies spend most of their time, high in the treetops.

We knew from reports that the furthest gallop is where most of the butterflies were the day before, so we walked over there, then slowly walked up and down the gallop a mile each way.

We saw Peacocks, Commas, Brimstones as well as Orange underwing moths, but no Large torties.

We knew that most of them emerge after midday, so with it being half twelve, thoughts turned to whether we should go to the other site, the crossroads.

I had done 14,000 steps already, and my right knee was getting sore, so I said I would stay and walk back down the third gallop, and see if I got lucky.

I bet you'll see one and get shots, Fran said.

Indeed.

They had been gone less than ten minutes when movement caught my eye, and a butterfly landed in the mud about 5m from where I was.

Probably a Comma again, I thought.

As I was looking into the sun, the light shone through its wings, revealing the parallel vertical bars meaning it was a Large tortoiseshell.

I edge closer, got shots, then called Fran to tell her I had one, and it was still beside me. She got the message although the signal broke up.

I waved to two others to come over, they struggled with the deep mud, but as soon as the guy made it, I moved and the butterfly flew off.

But he had binoculars, and he followed the insect up into the trees, where it perched. Fran arrived, and we talked, then there was more movement, as it came down to a lower branch, before gliding back to the ground for more puddling and basking.

There were perhaps eight to ten of us, so we formed a ring a short distance from the butterfly, and we all got shots, while the butterfly showed no signs of moving.

Job done.

Shall we get a dink I asked Fran.

Yes, a drink would be great.

So we walked back to the car all of a dither as the excitement faded, then drove from the wood to Ivychurch, to the pub next to the church, where nursing cold drinks we dined on cheesy chips in the beer garden, while half a dozen Peacocks fluttered about.

I took Fran back to Herne Bay, driving along the coast to Hythe, then up to the motorway and up Stone Street, onto the A2 and up to Faversham before taking Thanet Way back east.

And after dropping Fran off, back to the Thanet Way, to Ramsgate and then to Sandwich, Deal and home, driving back through the late afternoon golden light.

Quite the day.

Summer was garlic chicken and stir fry with noodles, done in twenty minutes. While I was away, Jools had done lots of gardening, and had just sat down, so dinner would be welcome.

And that was the day.

No football in the evening as we were pooped and so went to bed before nine.