Friday 12th June 2026

It's nearly the weekend again.

And for a change, I slept through the alarm until ten to six, when Cleo jumping on the bed and washing so hard the bed shook and shook me awake.

Jools made me a coffee, but as soon as she poured it, she was gone to yoga. So, after drinking the coffee I do the bins and ponder the day ahead.

Weather was to improve, but not really until Saturday, so probably do nothing. Anyway, the morning ahead and I listen to pods and write some.

Jools comes back, has breakfast and is off to the local library for knit and natter, I sit outside with Scully, as the sun was beginning to break through.

Once Jools returned, we had mini pork pies for lunch and a brew, and with the sun breaking through more often, thoughts turned to orchids once again.

And in particular, our smallest Kent species: the Musk.

Not all orchids are statuesque and/or blousy, some are small, green and easily overlooked. And then there's the Musk.

It took eight hours of searching over four visits to find one the first season I saw them, and each year after, sometimes in ten minutes, sometimes several hours.

All this despite them growing on a 3 square metre area. You might know they might be there. Should be there, but them being green, and the surrounding grass and other plants being green also, you have to have your best orchid eyes.

So, with hope in our hearts. My heart. We drove to PGD, through Barham and then along the narrow lane to the reserve.

Few others there, one being from KWT who had scythed a new path through the lush undergrowth.

We walked with purpose, knowing the area to go to. Then up the down, choosing the higher path, then inching along looking left and right, hoping to see one of the diminutive spikes.

Half an hour later we reached the shoulder of the down, and beyond there were CSOs and Chalk fragrants all over the place, and Pyramidals of the darkest pink just opening.

Back along the next lowest path, inching forward again.

I knew the area that they were historically, so looked harder. Up and down.

Up and down.

Move on.

Up and down.

And then, BINGO, BANGO, BONGO!

The tell-tale spike with unusual flowers, midway between two paths. I get down, first checking not to flatten any other orchids, and there it was.

And the sun came out to complete the celebration mood.

Shots with the phone and big camera.

And with that found and shot, we walk back to the car, then drive back to the A2, onto Whitfield to go and see the old folks at Jen's. Jen, Syylv, Sylv's budgie, Peter, John and Mike.

A full house.

So we chat for an hour, have a brew and the afternoon fades into evening.

Back home to feed the cats, cook dinner and relax before the evening game: Canada v Bosnia, which was a good game made better by the addition of sloe gin. Ended 1-1