Amongst annually occurring migrants from mainland Europe, one dragonfly is enjoying an especially good 2024 in my home county. Lesser Emperor (Anax parthenope) is common throughout southern Europe, with a long flight season from March to November, becoming progressively scarcer further north. I myself have observed them often enough abroad, but gained pictorial records of them only once since they are not inclined to settle. So when an apparently growing cluster was reported just outside Oxford at Radley Lakes I sensed an opportunity to while away a little mid-summer time.

This dragonfly is a bit smaller and rather more nondescript than the familiar, iridescent blue and bright green Emperor (Anax imperator) of any English summer. In males the waisted abdomen is dull brown with a black line running up the centre and a distinctive, pale blue saddle near the top; as our county recorder’s flight study from Radley (below) shows. The thorax is a greener-toned brown, and the eyes green. Lesser was first recorded nationally in 1996, with breeding first proven in Cornwall three years later. Since then sightings have become progressively more frequent as far north as Orkney, and further scattered breeding sites have been identified.

In the present season the first Oxon record, at Eynsham on 29th May (see here) caused quite a stir. Being a teneral it was considered to be a likely product of local breeding at any of various former gravel pit sites with restricted access in that area to the west of Oxford. Next, on 14th June a mature male was observed in the Standlake area of the Lower Windrush Valley GP complex (here). Then 10 days later came a first sighting from Radley Lakes, south of the city. By 21st July, two males and a tandem pair were being reported by Wayne and others from that historically productive location.

Hence on 24th I went to seek an added item for my near complete British dragonfly list. Arriving early at just after 9am, I set up at the Thrupp Lake (SU521975) watchpoint where most sightings were coming from and waited for a conversion as the day warmed up. There I practiced camera settings upon marginal vegetation on the off chance that a still cool subject might settle, and at 9:43 a Lesser Emperor flew into view out on the lake. The diagnostic blue saddle was clearly visible before the insect moved inshore and out of sight, so that was job done. I then checked a sunnier spot on the eastern side to find a regular Emperor was patrolling there, and hence concluded I was better off where I had started.

Scanning with binoculars I watched another territorial scuffle on the southern shore, and so hoped the eastern watchpoint would offer a hassle-free locality for the migrant. Other observers joined me, including the county recorder and Wayne, but that early sighting was as good as things got. At intervals large, dull-toned dragonflies would drift into view without another PI, and always to be chased off by an Emperor; the latter being highly territorial and aggressive. As the morning progressed conditions clouded over, a timely reminder of the frustrations of insect watching, and so we all left by midday.

Whilst I was thus engaged more tandem pairs were posted on Facebook by an unknown observer, from Pinkhill Meadow, Farmoor. That needed to be checked out since there was a spoof dragonfly sighting from the reservoir in the recent past, of an orange teneral Scarce Chaser. But once the county recorder clarified and down-sized the record there was only one place for me to go on a partly sunny Friday morning (26th). Ahead of arriving on site I could not remember the last time I had visited that long-time stomping ground, but on this day there was scope for evolving through new Odonata. That process was to be no easier this second time around than two days earlier

When I reached the Pinkhill hide (SP 440066) at around 10am Ian was there ahead of me, and soon afterwards called a first male Lesser Emperor that I couldn’t pinpoint. He also gained an indistinct but clearly diagnostic record shot that proved the earlier report was neither a hoax or mis-ID. We were shortly joined by a relieved county Odo recorder, and the three of us waited for around an hour while the grey stuff mostly enjoyed the upper hand over the sun. At one point a family of Water Rail emerged from right in front of our vantage point, the first time I can recall observing the fluffy, black chicks; and a Tufted Duck brood added to the “aaaw factor” out on the water.

A lot of Odo were active in the area before us – regular (or Blue) Emperor, Black-tailed Skimmers, a Brown Hawker, Darters and Damselflies – so why was my quest being so elusive? Then at 11:30 the male Lesser Emperor came into view again, and this time I made a good PI as it hovered in the middle distance. Shortly afterwards there was a second, closer fly-by so thus I had the sightings I sought and appreciated things were not likely to get better. There had also been an intervening call of a possible tandem pair, all of which strengthens the case for probable local breeding.

To the end of July further records issued from several more county wetlands: LWV Standlake Pit 60, Otmoor, Bodicote Reservoir near Banbury, Tar Lakes near Witney (see here), and Dorchester GPs. This dragonfly story seems likely to develop further in the current season given its subject’s extended flight period, but for now I have topped up my British dragonfly tally with a very agreeable optional extra.

Options for evolving through Orchids are diminishing now. At this stage of proceedings, as a year earlier my attention turned to the specific group of Orchidae known as Helleborines, of which three previously unobserved species were available to convert within sensible range. After recording two of those for the first time earlier in this week I at first concluded they are connoisseur items best left to hard core Orchid hunters and dedicated patch workers. But my eventual experience softened that stance when I self-found one of them at a BBOWT reserve.

The uncommon and unobtrusive Green-flowered Helleborine grows in Beech and other woodlands or coastal dunes, on calcareous and sandy soils. A cluster was reported on Facebook at BBOWT’s College Lake headquarters (HP23 5QG – SP935139 – see here) on 13th. On my visit there six days later it turned out that had been in a non-accessible area, but fortunately I engaged with a volunteer whose role is to show people around the reserve. He led me out to a likely spot and after some searching was the first to locate a specimen at the trackside. With our eyes now in, between us we then noticed three more plants that were all in pristine condition.

Green-flowered Helleborines at BBOWT College Lake

My research when reading up on this species a few days previously had suggested the flowers can appear to be almost permanently in bud, opening only partially to reveal a paler green lip sometimes flushed with pink. This cluster (pictured above) contradicted that since the flowers were all fully open. It was in fairly deep shade, so each plant was shorter with fewer blooms than is typical when GFH occurs in more open woodland. Having posted this on Facebook to seek confirmation of the ID, I was told by other group members there are various places on the reserve where this Helleborine might be found.

On my way to College Lake I stopped at BBOWT Aston Clinton Ragpits (SP888107) to re-visit the Broad-leaved Helleborines observed there last year at the woodland edge near the reserve entrance. It must be an intermittent species since only two were apparent this time, both in bud. But wandering at random into the Ragpits themselves I encountered some attractive var alba Pyramidal Orchid (below).

Pyramidal Orchids var alba at Aston Clinton Ragpits, Bucks

Things had got going on Monday 15th with another day trip to the Gloster Cotswolds, courtesy of Ewan whose local colleague Duncan had invited us to view two scarcities he had found at a site he surveys regularly. My research suggests Green-flowered Helleborine is variable in appearance and prone to appearing then vanishing at known sites, then re-occurring in unexpected nearby places. Numbers within usually small colonies may vary from year to year according to wetness, so this season must be a good one! The examples viewed on that day (pictured below) were a more typical height of up to 40cm, with each stem carrying well-spaced leaves and up to 20 closely clustered and barely open flowers.

The enigma that is Green-flowered Helleborine at the Glos site, and Narrow-lipped (far right)

Trickier still and greatly declining across its highly localised national range, Narrow-lipped Helleborine is a short-lived and self-pollinating deep shade lover that cannot tolerate direct sunlight. It blooms for around 10 days only in July and August, being particularly associated with Beech trees on calcareous substrates. The skinniest of the three Orchids viewed today, it may reach 70 cm or more in height. The drooping, well-spaced and very open flowers are yellow to olive-green in tone with no trace of the closely related Broad-leaved’s violet or purple hues. That is if such detail can be made out then captured in the preferred gloom such as we encountered them in.

Our guide told us they occur at more Cotswold sites he surveys, but the two at this spot were his only finds this season. Others in the vicinity had fallen foul of mammal browsing. The survivor (pictured above, far right) is what I would describe as challenging. Proper photography must require artificial lighting to capture such a subject adequately. The record shot is the best I could gain in the circumstances, using my phone. See here for an apt pictorial appreciation of the conundrum concerned.

Having learned all these complexities in writing up this post, the reaction was to opt out of my original July plan of seeking such quests locally at historic locations. Since both the easily overlooked plants are vulnerable to disturbance and particularly trampling, by agreement with our inestimable host who had self-found them I cannot reveal their precise locations herein. I will admit to not being swept off my feet by either of the rather unsubstantial-looking pair, but they are scarce and difficult to find Orchidae that I had not seen previously, so their rarity value must carry the day.

At the start point of our walk were far more plentiful Broad-leaved Helleborine (pictured below) of an atypical deep red-flowered form. They were rather more the ticket for me visually and still in a quite early stage of blooming. It was only my second record of another erratic and declining species, including this tonal variant, that I had observed a year ago at Aston Clinton Ragpits (see here).

Broad-leaved Helleborines

I next considered going for Dune Helleborine, a similar and as short-lived, but taller species to Narrow-lipped that has occurred at a one-off inland location in Warks since 2017 (see here). But less than enthusiastic advice from a top level contact of Adam suggested it might not be worth doing as the site has become poorly managed so the fragile colony is barely clinging on. Just four stems there had been in bloom for over a week with no mention in our Facebook group, so maybe others agree. This post’s comment certainly does.

With these successes it remained to check Oxford’s own fens for Marsh Fragrant Orchid, following on from my recent first experience of them in Hants (see here). The first to be reported from BBOWT Dry Sandford Pit (OX13 6JW – SU467997) for three years had been posted on Facebook and Ian tracked it down over the previous weekend (pictured below, left). Then Ewan visited on 18th and located a whopping 30-plus plants in another part of the fen, more than Wayne could ever remember at the site.

Marsh Fragrant Orchids at Dry Sandford Pit, Oxon

I therefore met Ewan there on Friday morning (19th). He led me along a newly trodden way through the fen and before us were indeed a large quantity of MFO, whose fragrance filled the air all around. I have been to the reserve many times over the years but had never dared to venture into this part of the seriously off-piste habitat. Now others had done so ahead of us as the way through was clear. So perhaps this significant cluster has gone unseen over the aforementioned three year interval, during which BBOWT had in any case blocked access to the fen … who knows?

This post’s new records bring the total of Orchids I have observed in the British Isles to 39, including three notable hybrids. Early Spider Orchid next spring, that I was too slow off the mark to convert this season, could round that up to a suitable stopping point perhaps. But these highly motivational wild plants neither only come out when the sun shines nor fly away just before I get there, so who knows?

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Herewith my national Orchid list to date (in running order per my Blamey, Fitter & Fitter Domino wild flower guide, Bloomsbury Publishing, 2nd edition 2013)

1. Common Spotted Orchid – widespread
2. Heath Spotted Orchid – Loch Eil, Allt Mhuic reserve, Woodsides Meadows
3. Early Marsh Orchid – Lye Valley, Parsonage Moor
4. Southern Marsh Orchid – widespread
5. Northern Marsh Orchid – Glenroy, Fort William
6. Chalk Fragrant Orchid – widespread
7. Marsh Fragrant Orchid – Mapledurwell and Greywell Fens, Dry Sandford Pit
8. Heath Fragrant Orchid – Allt Mhuic reserve
9. Pyramidal Orchid – widespread
10. Early Purple Orchid – widespread
11. Green-winged Orchid – widespread
12. Musk Orchid – Grangelands (gone over), Noar Hill
13. Small White Orchid – Allt Mhuic reserve
14. Burnt Orchid – Clattinger Farm, Knocking Hoe, Pewsey Downs
15. Lady Orchid – Hartslock reserve
16. Lady X Monkey Orchid – Hartslock reserve
17. Military Orchid – Homefield Wood
18. Monkey Orchid – Hartslock reserve
19. Man Orchid – Barnack Hills & Holes, Swaddywell Pit
20. Lizard Orchid – Oxon site, Berrow Dunes, Sandwich Bay
21. Common Twayblade – widespread
22. Frog Orchid – Bald Hill, Morgan’s Hill
23. Frog  X Common Spotted Orchid – Morgan’s Hill
24. Greater Butterfly Orchid – widespread
25. Lesser Butterfly Orchid – Allt Mhuic reserve, Pewsey Downs
26. Bee Orchid – widespread
27. Fly Orchid – Homefield Wood, Warburg reserve, Cotswold site
28. Fly-Bee hybrid Orchid – Cotswold site
29. Autumn Lady’s Tresses – Greenham Common
30. Marsh Helleborine – Dry Sandford Pit, Lye Valley, Mapledurwell and Greywell Fens
31. Violet Helleborine – Warburg reserve
32. Broad-leaved Helleborine – Aston Clinton Ragpits, Cotswold site
33. Narrow-lipped Helleborine – Cotswold site
34. Green flowered Helleborine – Cotswold site, College Lake
35. White Helleborine – Homefield Wood, Grangelands, Aston Clinton Ragpits
36. Narrow- or Sword-leaved Helleborine – Rodborough, Chappett’s Copse
37. Red Helleborine – Windsor Hill, Bucks
38. Bird’s Nest Orchid – Warburg reserve, Pulpit Hill, Colesbourne
39. Giant Orchid – South Oxon

What remains is either difficult or beyond the distance I would consider travelling to connect with rare birds. I would struggle for instance to raise enthusiasm about miniscule mire dwellers such as Bog, Fen or the much lauded Coral Root Orchids. Likewise Lesser Twayblade or Creeping Lady’s Tresses, purely because they are residual species on a required list. This has been a wonderfully diverting project over the past two summers, but I am missing new and different butterflies to record dreadfully. Whither next?

This is something I have wanted to experience again for quite a while. Twice in the past at this time of year I joined mid-summer evening RSPB local group outings in the Newbury area: to Snelsmore Common in the late 1980s, then a site just north-west of Greenham Common’s former missile silos in 2013. I was taken to see a lone, south Oxon item in company with select county birders in 2015, and last but by no means least there was a memorable self-find abroad of Red-necked Nightjar along a dirt road outside of El Roccio, Spain in May 2012.

On our way home from the Basingstoke area last week, Ewan briefed me on a further location that currently holds three breeding pairs. Newtown Common (SU 476629 – see here) is one of several examples of lowland heath habitat in west Berks and north Hants that all attract migrant Nightjar in the summer months. I didn’t relish making an evening visit by myself, so enlisted the support of another Oxon birding colleague Sally, herself a seasoned Nightjar observer since they breed close to her second home in mid-Wales.

European Nightjar © Harper Collins Publishers

Arriving a little early at around 7:45pm we took a walk around to explore what is typical habitat for our crepuscular in daytime quest that flies at sundown. After crossing paths with two other Oxon birder/photographers, we set up our watch point at a spot near where Ewan had told me a Nightjar perches in a particular tree top. Before long six more people passed by on the same mission, then we waited and waited longer. As dusk drew ever closer, aircraft vapour trails cris-crossed the dimming sky and the subtly-toned moon rose then edged gently to the right. My sense of anticipation intensified to the verge of impatience as the light continued to dim.

More than once Sally said she could hear distant churring, then a “co-ic … co-ic” call announced itself around us. At 9:20pm a dark shape glided past swiftly, silently and banking as it went with a shadowy almost ghostly, hawk-like jizz. A thrill coursed through me as mission was thus accomplished. This first Nightjar of our evening made a few more passes, then from 9:30pm churring commenced in earnest from the middle distance. As night continued to draw in I became infused with a beguiling, almost primeval empathy with both the sound and its setting; and at intervals these Tolkienesque dark riders of the night would flash by again.

Newtown Common

Having not seen flying Nightjar at such close quarters before I now appreciated why American species are named “Nighthawks”. The back-curved wing and long-tailed profile is quite suggestive of a smaller raptor, as strong and deliberate wing-beats alternate with graceful sweeps and wheels with wings held motionless. Males typically lie or crouch along tree boughs when churring, but may also sing from a post or tree top such as the one we were staking out. Females usually incubate two eggs on the bare ground amongst bracken or stones.

It is said that by jumping about waving white handkerchiefs or something similar, observers can attract male birds that will take them for the conspicuous white wing flashes and tail corners of an interloping rival. So my experienced companion now began something akin to a Morris dance. Fairly quickly no less than three birds all came to take a look, appearing suddenly and out of nowhere through gaps in the trees, then flying around and above us in their mysteriously distinctive fashion.

If they were all territorial males this was the entire reported quota for the site, but seemingly they were not easily misled and soon went on their way. By 10pm their strange reeling song was rising and falling from various locations in the deepening gloom, and feeling we had seen and heard enough we headed back to the car, passing the camping seated group of six we had met earlier. They were enjoying wine after a good picnic, local “villagers” as they described themselves, who come here year on year to watch the Nightjars and socilaise. They described the spectacle enjoyed on this night as their “best ever”.

We thus learned of a second good vantage point, overlooking falling ground and complete with a bench, should it not be already taken in future. But our own pitch, though more obstructed by large trees, had been as satisfactory since we had it to ourselves with an excellent outcome. This was the best of my three Nightjar experiences to date in the Thames basin lowland heaths. The birds’ own idiosyncratic activity would continue all night, long after any possible “disturbance” by human visitors such as ourselves and the others ceased. And in each future season the mysterious nocturnal entities will hopefully return to this corner of England from African wintering grounds for the nightly July drama to be replayed.

The year’s wet spring and early summer has apparently been an exceptional season for Marsh Orchids at this post’s two featured sites. I had read that a tiny calcareous fen just outside Basingstoke was a hot spot for the first-named and a possibility for the second, and so applied for access to the permit only HWT reserve. The response breathed new life into what I was expecting to be a motivationally dwindling July. Not only did it offer good numbers of what were formerly regarded as the nationally scarce and much sought Narrow-leaved (or Pugsley’s), but a nearby site holds more than 100 of the new for me Marsh Fragrant option.

Having been thus informed I passed things on to potentially interested Oxon colleagues. Adam duly advised that all previously cited Narrow-leaved south of an arbitrary line from Anglesey across to the Humber estuary are now regarded as a fen sub-species of Southern Marsh (Dactylorhiza praetermissa). Researching things myself I learned the Marsh Orchid (Dactylorhiza) genus, of up to 60 species across Europe with four in the British Isles (see here), is notoriously tricky to separate for even the most experienced botanists.

Southern English colonies cited as Narrow-leaved Marsh (Dactylorhiza traunsteineriodes), including the Basingstoke one and another just outside Oxford at BBOWT Parsonage Moor, had been the subject of debate for several years prior to 2012. Then new evidence resulted in their re-classification as Dactylorhiza praetermissa ssp schoenophila (see here). Confused? I have now reached such a level of detail in this current enthusiasm, but studying the contentious plants for myself would nonetheless make for an interesting excursion whatever their exact nomenclature.

The Mapledurwell Fen Orchid package (from left): Southern Marsh, ssp schoenophila, Marsh Fragrant and Marsh Helleborine

Thursday duly arrived, and myself and Ewan set out to investigate. We would have the opportunity to identify and separate Southern Marsh, the sub-species and Marsh Fragrant Orchids in a single location. I was not expecting that to be a simple task. As a general guide my research suggested schoenophila is a thinner stemmed and more delicate looking plant than regular Southern Marsh with which it readily hybridises, while Marsh Fragrant can reach twice the height of its familiar Chalk Fragrant congener.

Arriving on site at Mapledurwell Fen (RG24 7JL – SU678523 – see here) the entrance was not easy to find. Housing development encroaches dangerously close, right to the protected area boundary, and the expected way in seemed to be up a private driveway. Then we noticed an iron gate behind the roadside hedge, that despite our having an access code for a supposed padlock we had to climb over. Ewan went to reconnoitre first, returning to say there were Orchids at the far end of the fen. Then I followed through trodden ways in the seriously off-piste habitat (pictured below), and there stretched out what we sought.

The first item I stooped to examine was recognizable from my researches and pictures seen online as the Marsh Orchid formerly known as Narrow-leaved, more of which could be picked out at intervals around. Southern Marsh Orchid ssp schoenophila appeared a thinner stemmed, more delicate looking plant than the more robust regular Southern. Those here were around 15 – 20 cm tall with shorter, typically angular flower spikes, and yes their leaves were narrower. In truly kosher Narrow-leaved the flowers are said to all face in the same direction, which I didn’t notice in any of today’s cluster.

Mapledurwell Fen Marsh Orchids including ssp schoenifila

In the field there was a “gut feel” about which plants were the sought sub-species that was no longer apparent when reviewing my pictures. I sometimes find this with other plants, insects or even birds. So I will not caption any of the above images as schoenophila, but given my brief from the HWT reserves officer at least some of them most likely are. More important was the opportunity to experience this complex mix of varying and hybridising plant forms, and appreciate the difficulty of accurate identification for myself.

In a shadier area to one side, while my companion busied himself nearby, I noted the taller Marsh Fragrant Orchid that had brought me here in the first place. Then going over to look, good numbers of Marsh Helleborine announced themselves, some of which were a scarce pale form for which the site is noted. The full agenda for this exercise had thus been converted quickly and it remained to record the most photogenic specimens. Amongst the Dactylorhizae were shapes and sizes that allowing for hybridisation would have been virtually impossible to analyze accurately. In the following sequence the first two are particularly stately Southern Marsh. The third and fourth items are Marsh Fragrant. We were clearly in an intriguing place.

Some taller Southern Marsh specimens (left) and Marsh Fragrant (right)

Marsh Helleborines, including the Mapledurwell specialty pale form (far right)

We moved on three miles to an area of HWT’s nationally important Greywell Moors fenland (see here), that is especially rich in Marsh Orchids at the moment. This particular site is noted for blending original, spring-fed calcareous fen with chalk grassland, due to the historic disposal of lime spoil on top of the chalk bedrock. That has given rise to an unusual mix of downland plants co-existing with moisture-loving fen species here. Access is by permit only, obtainable from the reserves officer who can advise the exact location.

Marsh Fragrant Orchid (Gymnadenia densiflora – pictured above) occurs only in alkaline marshy ground fed by calcareous water. It is thus more distinguishable from the two other British fragrant species on grounds of habitat rather than significant physical features. I have to say today’s plants appeared quite similar to the closely related Chalk Fragrant species. But the spikes are said to be more tightly packed, hence the botanical name. There can be up to 100 flowers in shades of pink on the tallest stems (up to 70 cm) from late June to August. But I understand infinite variation in supposed diagnostics render this group as difficult to separate reliably as the Dactylorhizae, without DNA analysis being employed. Today’s plants certainly lived up to their name as the fragrance when taking these pictures suffused the air.

Walking on past the best area for Marsh Fragrant, we came to an expanse of pure fen that was chock full of Southern Marsh Orchid. Now I became re-acquainted with the robust, round-topped forms that have so appealed to me over the past two summers, rather than the skinny and untidy looking things encountered earlier at Mapledurwell; sub-species, hybrids or whatever they were. I had been briefed that a very rare, pale green Southern Marsh individual was available to view here, but we didn’t find it. And everywhere we might look more and more Helleborines blended in their discrete, unobtrusive way with the other fenland vegetation. I have read the last-named is considered one of the most subtly beautiful of all British Orchids, and they certainly entail allurement.

Regular Marsh Helleborines with reddish stems and sepals

Amongst them were examples of the pale-flowered Marsh Helleborine variation epipactis palistris ochroleuca. With these especially attractive items (pictured below) the yellow-white toned flower is almost devoid of red and the three sepals are mostly a greenish-yellow. The hairy stems are likewise less reddish and more green. I understand this variation is more often found in coastal dune systems than fenland.

Marsh Helleborine var ochroleuca

It by now being early afternoon, tummies (mine especially) were craving sustenance and so we headed homeward, via first a nearby sandwich stop then a supermarket on the Basingstoke ring road. I usually got birding posts out soon after the event in past years herein, but required research and the quantity of pictures to review and edit when doing Orchids can make them more difficult topics to present. Given the previously stated complexity of this one that process has taken five days! What is recounted herein was one more superb episode in my current national Orchid odyssey, that has now almost run its course, but a little more still awaits.

I struggled with this item a year ago, before eventually experiencing some rather under-whelming examples with expert assistance (see here). Now, well into my second Orchid season, options for new varieties to see have dwindled moving into July. With the weather in Scotland again unfriendly for converting my last required British dragon and butterflies, and spur of the moment air fares too high for my liking, I resigned myself to seeking out two unencountered Helleborines – Green-flowered and Narrow-lipped – to fill the month ahead. I knew of historic Oxon sites for both of them but things were likely to be a challenge.

I began this British general election day at a woodland near Henley: itself a previously safe, one-party parliamentary constituency that I reside half a mile within, and so my own floating vote has not always influenced things. As in 2023 I failed to find the first of those Orchid targets though it would have been early to do so. Moving on to the south side of Aston Rowant NNR for my wildlife year’s first visit, as I walked out the phone rang. It was an invitation to a private viewing of both the still sought Helleborines in a neighbouring county later in the month. That at once dented my always fragile motivation for doing things the difficult way locally. But there were still Frog Orchids to re-acquaint myself with, and so I rambled on.

Frog Orchids

Having got my eye in properly with the tricky little things at Morgan’s Hill a week earlier (see previous post), I located some quite easily this time. I wanted to do justice today to these arcane entities that seemingly hold a capacity to intrigue that controverts their rather lurking physical presence. There were a number of enclosures along the south facing slope of Bald Hill (SU722960) but they were not for protecting Orchids, instead containing areas of weed-killed vegetation. Puzzled by that I eventually met a volunteer who was engaged in eradicating an invasive grass species with herbicides. I naturally hoped more sensitive plants would not be affected, then he went on his way.

Surveying anew the area recalled from August 2023 I soon found a first diminutive Frog Orchid in good condition. It is often said that after the first one the observer will quickly pick out more. Looking all around as I knelt carefully to take pictures, I realised I was indeed not treading upon five more items in the immediate vicinity. Having often set out in fair weather to such Chilterns’ hillsides in the past to curse the grey stuff that would roll in upon my arrival when butterflying, I not for the first time this summer considered the irony of wishing bright sunlight away to gain better pictures of Orchids. These below, with editing are of higher quality than last year’s, and also of more attractive specimens, so that was mission accomplished..

This group exhibited both the yellow-green and red tones of the plant’s varied forms. Each of them was delicate, mysterious even; all were subtle and understated, and collectively they provided a quite satisfying, self-found experience. To my mind the flowers’ suggested resemblance to frogs remained tentative at best. Walking on a bit further I beheld the largest Frog Orchid I have ever encountered, an absolute stonker possibly 15 cm in height (lead sequence, left and right). After that I sought shade in which to assess back of camera results, at which the phone rang again and then I messaged different wildlife colleagues.

Before becoming thus distracted I had recorded nine target plants, but upon attempting a second pass my location sense dissolved as randomly as it had been to get my eye in originally. Stumbling around I just could not re-find the morning’s subjects, and so moved on. I decided against checking so early in its season for the second Helleborine, instead going to cast my vote then home to watch the tennis.

Incidentally, the re-named though geographically little altered Henley and Thame constituency changed hands for the first time in 118 years, so my tactical vote had counted. I support no political party ideologically, opting at each election for whatever I might consider has the lesser potential for harm.