I have observed this Orchid once previously in Greece but nationally it has long been restricted to just three places, one of which is conveniently close to home on the Chilterns escarpment. So when I became aware of this day’s Hardy Orchid Society (HSO) field meeting it seemed too good an opportunity to miss. The site is generally known within botanical circles and published online, but highly protected and not publicly accessible. Two flower stems are available to view this year, whilst in some past seasons there has been only one and in others none at all.

Though relatively commonplace in parts of mainland Europe, this much prized species has remained critically endangered and on the verge of extinction at its north-western range limit in the British Isles for the last 40 years. I have read it is a delicate and fussy item that requires exactly the right mix of light and shade in the as particular calcareous woodland habitat it prefers. Hence today’s site is very carefully managed by BBOWT to provide the optimal light levels and prevent damage from grazing deer, rabbits, or even ever-indiscriminate molluscs. Then there are dreaded and much reviled human “diggers up” to guard against, but I understand the plant stock has survived at this spot for much of my lifetime.

Red Helleborine (see here) is sinuous in form with up to 20 well separated flowers on each snaky stalk (20 – 70 cm). The species occurs from late May to July in light, dry woodland mainly of Beech, Pine and Spruce; and especially on calcareous ground. Flower tone is said to be an indicator of soil conditions, with deeper colouration suggesting more calcareous locations. But individual plants are known to lie dormant without blooming for years on end, which adds to their mythical status amongst British enthusiasts.

In the event the HSO operated staggered visits. Having expressed flexibility regarding start time I was invited to join the later and less in demand of the two at 1pm, which suited me after the previous day’s more distant excursion to Sandwich Bay. Gathering at a roadside location, our still large group of 16 was led through private woodland to a rather formidable double enclosure that protects these plants, the only two of their kind blooming in Great Britain this season. Here I learned the likely re-occurrence of a historic cluster in Hants is now in serious doubt, while the third in Glos is also dormant this summer.

At our destination the group spread out around two sides of the inner enclosure fence at the top of a steep hillside, while our BBOWT guide kept up a commentary on all things Red Helleborine with a clear passion for and dedication to these most vulnerable of charges in his care. Both blooms that curled subtly forward and upward from the underscrub within were in pristine condition. Seen through binoculars the plant exuded a quite elegant and graceful quality that my own camera was unable to capture adequately at the enforced distance. I favoured the side view that I felt was better lit. The above are my day’s pictorial records that with editing have turned out to be better than I had expected on site.

This was something I needed to do in my current wildlife enthusiasm, though I didn’t “shake with adrenalin” upon viewing the so supervised subject to quote another blog I consulted during my research. That is not to say I do not appreciate the very special quality of what I witnessed. I have now recorded one of the rarest of all national Orchids, though within an ambience that had little empathy with my previous, cherry-picking solo experiences at motivating locations in the past two months; or indeed the introductory stimulation of a year ago. I’ve now done national Red Helleborine though and need not consider it again.

Today’s plan had begun by wishing to top up my national Damselfly list, the prime target of this post being one of the more recent additions from the south to the British Odonata fauna. Now thriving, since just 14 individuals were re-discovered at today’s location in 2019 (see here) after a 70-year absence from the mainland, the scarcity can be observed at field meetings arranged by Sandwich Bay Bird Observatory. Having got around to booking onto one this season I alerted Adam who did the same and now we made a joint effort. We had each recorded every other national damselfly previously.

I had experienced Dainty Damselfly (or Bluet) before in Sardinia in June 2018. This species remains rather localised in its historic range from the northern Iberian peninsula eastward to Iran; and has made further inroads as far north as the dune coasts of Belgium, Holland and this corner of England. The Kent Wildlife Trust now offers annual field trips at another site, Oare Marshes near Faversham (see here), while more county locations are reputed. There was also a small colony on the Isle of Sheppey in 2010/11 that has since died out.

The Kent specialty (pictured above) exhibits similar jizz and flight style to Azure, Common Blue or Variable Damselflies amongst which it may occur, but males can appear slightly smaller and darker-toned. The following diagnostics separate Dainty from those more familiar others:

• Greenish yellow colouring on the underside
• Thin antehumeral stripes on the upper side of the thorax
• Pterostigma (wing tags) almost twice as long as they are wide
• “Wine-goblet” shaped marking on segment 2 in males below the wing base
• “Rocket-shaped” markings in females on the abdomen

We arrived at the Sandwich Bay Estate (CT13 9PF – TR350578), within which the bird observatory and field study centre is situated, just after 12pm; two and a half hours ahead of the field meeting. We couldn’t have wished for better weather conditions in which to convert our quest, the current week having provided three consecutive days of the golden orb for the first time in a while in this idiosyncratic English summer, that has been most recently characterised by cold northerly June winds on top of the endless wet stuff. Things thus certainly seemed meant today!

I hoped for and also interested Adam in the opportunity to observe a third new amphibian for my current season, while this location is further noted for the profusion of Lizard Orchids that populate it’s golf courses. Volunteers on site assured us that both those aims would be attainable before the main business began, but more of that later.

Male (left and centre) and female (right) Dainty Damselflies (above), with (below from left) Azure, Variable and Common Blue for comparison

When we reached the pond of Dainty Dragonfly renown, two lingerers from the morning meeting were present and something-teen mating pairs, albeit directly into sunlight of the insects themselves (see here for Adam’s pictures). But good images of uncoupled males were obtainable in long grass away from the water’s edge, this post’s lead one being my best. The two and a half brown segments 5, 6 and 7 on the abdomen are the easiest way to recognise them in the field before back of camera pictures might confirm the already quoted diagnostics. I also now gained new studies of Azure and Variable subjects for comparison, and have included an archive Common Blue in the sequence (above).

Our early arrival had clearly been opportune in providing these picture opportunities ahead of the afternoon’s further participants joining in. This is the pool where the new coloniser was first found five years ago, and they are now far and away its most plentiful damselfly despite their national rarity, this habitat being managed to meet their specific requirements. Two more pools have just been created nearby. The warden told us Lesser Emperor, Red-veined Darter, and Scarce and Southern Emerald damselflies currently breed on other parts of the Sandwich Bay estate, though not all in publicly accessible areas. More potential colonisers are said to be not too far distant along the Normandy coast.

European Marsh Frog (see here) was introduced to Kent at Romney Marsh in the 1930s and has since spread throughout much of this and into neighbouring counties, typically inhabiting drainage ditches and shallow pools. I had therefore hoped the non-native species would be present today and indeed there were some in the Dainty Damselfly pond. The largest of the triple water frog group, these lack the green dorsal stripe of the Pool Frogs observed at Greenham Common earlier this season (see here). For me the stand-out feature was their rounded, bright green snouts, while the air sacs below the eyes were also quite distinctive. The dark stripe atop the specimen in the above study is in fact the shadow of an overhead stem.

Before visiting the pool we followed a public right of way opposite the observatory entrance into coastal dunes and the Royal St George’s golf course. I was hoping for a better Lizard Orchid experience than the relative disappointment of Berrow Dunes, Somerset a week earlier (see previous post). This below is the sort of thing I had hoped to witness then. Here there were significant numbers of the plants swaying in the wind amongst long grass on and around the dune ridges. Some of them were huge, all of them weird, providing my third such encounter of this summer.

Viper’s Bugloss

An equally prominent plant here, dominating the botanical high ground in tandem with the less conspicuous Lizard Orchids was Viper’s Bugloss, a hairy, blue-flowered, stately biennial of sand dunes, chalk grassland and construction sites that has a scattered British and mainly southern distribution. The juxtaposed spectacle across the dune-scape of their vibrant blue patches with the subtly skulking Lizard Orchids completed a superb and varied wildlife triple bill within the Kentish coast’s increasingly apparent and ever open Odonata gateway.

This was on my season’s wildlife agenda from the outset, after I saw quite spectacular pictures of multiple Lizard Orchids online last summer at the well-known national site now featured. So the previous post’s local record of the strange looking subject was intended as a hor’s d’ouevre to a rather more substantial main course today.

Berrow Dunes (see here) comprises just over two miles of flat, sandy terrain along the Bristol Channel coast that is part of a three times larger SSSI. The greater portion is occupied by the Burnham and Berrow Golf Club, which though a top-ranked links facility is also managed to cater for the 270 species of wild plant that it hosts. I was advised by fellow Hardy Orchid Society members that golfers and grounds staff here are used to and mostly sympathetic towards botanists scrambling around in the deep rough, provided those visitors are sensible in their movements. One had given me two good locations along a public right of way that crosses the course from an entry point behind a Co-op convenience store in Berrow Road, Burnham-on-Sea (TA8 2JQ – ST 299515).

Using a small public car park opposite that shop, I strode out at around 11 am, but as so often at first found difficulty in matching the Google Maps aerial views I carried to the actual lie of the land. Eventually I met two other observers who took me back to a spot that held three Lizard Orchid, two of which were starting to go over. After more wandering about I realised this was indeed the second pin-drop location I was seeking. Now I had my bearings, and on walking back to the first pin found two more newly arrived fieldsmen, one of whom lived locally, who had clearly already found what I was looking for.

This is a large hollow on the first dune ridge the right of way crosses (pictured above), just to the left of a sign post that is visible from the entry point. It is conveniently out of the way and sight of passing golfers on the fairways to either side. I include this detail so that readers unfamiliar with the site might locate this hot spot more readily than I did. Growing in long grass my subdued-toned quest at first could be difficult to pick out, but once we got our collective eyes in we counted more than 20 plants here at various stages of their blooming cycle: some pristine, others going over and more that were quite small (pictured below) and so presumably young. The local observer said there were a lot more of them here last year.

Less conspicuous Lizard Orchids skulking in the long grass

Scarce and localised nationally on the edge of its European range, the red-listed Lizard Orchid (see here) is also notoriously sporadic from season to season. Often occurring singly like Oxon’s sole representative, or in greater quantities such as here, the species favours roadside verges, woodland edges, old quarries, calcareous grassland and stable, coastal dune systems. It has an association with golf courses, most notably at today’s site and Sandwich in Kent.

This is potentially Great Britain’s loftiest Orchid, capable of reaching a metre in height with as many as 80 densely-packed flowers in a spike, as well as one of the more bizarre. More usual dimensions range from 25 up to 70 cm tall. The pale greenish-white flowers with purple highlights are said to resemble the head, legs and tail of its reptilian appellation; while long, dangling, curled frills and delicate spots and stripes increase the exotic quality. This June and July-flowering plant is said to emit a distinct odour of goats to attract pollinators, but I neither know what exactly that might be or ever remember to sniff them to find out.

Other Berrow Dunes Orchids

Southern Marsh, Common Spotted, Pyramidal and Bee Orchids are also well represented at Berrow Dunes. I found some attractive examples of the first named (above, far left) along a boardwalk across an area of marsh at the far end of the right of way. Pyramidal Orchid (rest of sequence) were plentiful in the same spots as the Lizards, while more diminutive Bee were also present in the aforementioned hollow, requiring care not to be trodden upon.

Another notable plant there in numbers was the enigmatic Common Broomrape (pictured below), that blooms from June to September and can be confused with Orchids by the less experienced including myself in the past. Those, like the similarly toned and sized Birds-nest Orchid (see here), have no green parts so do not photosynthesise, being instead parasitic upon the roots of various other host plants from which they take their own nutrients. Hence, rather like fungi they do not appear above ground until the flower spikes thrust upward.

Common Broomrape

I had noted two more possible Lizard Orchid locations in advance, a little further north from older records published online (see here); but they were not near the public right of way and we were present at a busy golfing time of day. So instead I followed my chance acquaintances by road to two meadows adjacent to the far northern end of the course, to witness their profusion of Southern Marsh Orchid (pictured below).

These and the closely related Early Marsh must be amongst my favourite Orchids, since they produce such robust, densely-packed flower spikes. The appropriately named Common Spotted Orchid seems bland and uninteresting by comparison. Today’s experience dwarfed my previous substantive one of pure Southern Marsh at Tuckmill Meadows, Oxon a year ago; and confirmed the great majority of those I then considered at Clattinger Farm, Wilts were hybrids (see here for both).

Southern Marsh Orchids

Lastly, I could only imagine the wildlife potential of a delightfully unkempt churchyard I wandered through in the village of Berrow itself (pictured below) before heading home. Here quite a few more Pyramidal Orchids were amongst the wild plants appreciating the apparent lack of mowing or strimming regime, but I had little time remaining in which to search out further biodiversity. If only more public spaces were managed in such a way!

It seems I had not visited Berrow Dunes and its golf course in a vintage year for their stand out botanical encounter of the Lizard kind. But today was another excellent episode in my current series of Orchid adventures. The much followed, often iconic plants have provided a similar capacity to fascinate now that summer butterflies and Odonata hold little more mystery given their own familiarity. But the still available returns are once again diminishing in difficulty and travelling distance terms, so how I might evolve for wildlife motivation next year I cannot tell.

We take these birds so much for granted nowadays in Oxfordshire that it perhaps requires an experience such as what unfolded this morning to fully value and admire them. Somewhere in amongst breakfasting and showering I noticed a minor commotion in the perpetually mowed field behind my park home. A Red Kite was being harassed by Magpies, whilst something very clearly dead lay on the ground nearby. Once the raptor was driven off, perhaps surprisingly by its smaller antagonists, I went to look.

The corpse was indeed a Woodpigeon, though it had seemed bigger from further away, largely decapitated and with its belly ripped open. Gruesome stuff, but I didn’t linger for long. By the time the Kite came back I had retrieved my camera. Though I will never make any pretence of being a “photographer”, what ensued made me appreciate one of our most commonplace local, if re-introduced birds almost as much as when I travelled to mid-Wales to encounter the then great scarcity for the first time during the 1980s

Again the Kite took exception to the attentions of Magpies and Jackdaws, abandoning its meal, and so I decided it couldn’t be too bothered and continued with my morning’s ablutions. But when I went out on this day’s wildlife quest the first-named was again in the field and now without corvid interference. So I walked up to my back garden fence and took the pictures that follow. I read recently that blurred foregrounds are considered to be arty amongst my more competitive peers, while the subject itself looks OK to me in these next two studies. Just look at that imposing head and big yellow eye!

By now the remains of the Woodpigeon looked well and truly plucked, feathers littering the ground. Then the Kite suddenly flew off, carrying the partly consumed carrion in its talons, so I went on to my morning’s chosen wildlife task. Perhaps predictably in this current season that was another Orchid, the location for which is generally known in informed county wildlife circles, but which I cannot reveal more widely herein.

The twin-stemmed Lizard Orchid (above), is as far as I am aware the only known current example in Oxfordshire. It has suffered damage this season, possibly from molluscs or else something more substantial stepping upon it. But the good stem of the two was in pristine condition upon my check, offering some attractive pictorial records. I don’t usually do this sort of “what I did today” local stuff in this journal, but I just rather like both sets of images presented in this little post.

Footnote: I have subsequently learned of a further Oxon Lizard Orchid, also at a roadside location in the south of the county.

The orchid adventures in this second season keep on getting better. This post’s lead item was one of four agenda failures in 2023, having died out at its last-known Oxon site. The red-listed as vulnerable Lesser Butterfly Orchid has also been lost from more than 60% of its historic national range due to changes in agricultural practice and consequent habitat destruction. I had seen just one before in Scotland and had to take that tour guide’s word for the ID, not knowing then what I do now. So today I visited an acknowledged lingering stronghold.

Pewsey Downs NNR (see here) is one of England’s finest remaining expanses of unaltered chalk downland. It is both a SSSI and Special Area of Conservation (SAC) due to its Orchid-rich grassland and associated 28 butterfly species. From a car park at SU115638 a right of way leads up Walker’s Hill, the central of the reserve’s three such features. On the summit sits a neolithic long barrow “Adam’s Grave” that was clearly meant to be seen from far and wide in its own time, beyond which more ancient earthworks announce themselves less dramatically.

On reaching that landmark I was engaged with by another wild-plant seeker who hadn’t heard of my quest, then began to locate LBOs before I did! I had read that the best Orchid area here is on the south-facing slope below the large barrow and around the next earthwork downward. Once left to my own devices again and back at my usual pace I found many more Lesser Butterfly Orchid (see here and here – pictured above and below), some in pristine condition and rather more going over. There are said to be hundreds in the eastern parts of this site, especially within and around the ancient ditches and enclosures that characterise it.

LBO grows to 30 cm tall in June and July; on fertile grassland up to 365 metres such as here, heathland in boggy ground, in woodland on calcareous substrates, and in open alkaline fens. It is thus able to benefit from a wider range of habitats than most Orchids, but within them is said to have particular requirements that are not yet well understood. The plants are described as being generally smaller and more delicate looking than the closely related and more widespread Greater Butterfly Orchid. But those are not reliable indicators, since GBO varies in such physical and other more minor respects.

I understand the only accurate way of separating the two is by closely examining the interior of the flowers, within which the pollinia are parallel in lesser, curved in greater. That said the top row central and right hand images (above) are of different flowers on the same stem. But those none-too sharp macro studies are sufficiently like others I have seen online to clinch the ID at today’s widely-cited LBO location. The barely better lower left-hand picture is taken from the Creed and Hudson Orchid guide (© rights of publisher reserved), for clarification. The GBO details in that row are from 2023 plants at Oxon’s Warburg reserve where LBO is now thought to no longer occur.

Burnt Orchids on Pewsey Downs

There were also Burnt Orchid here, my season’s fourth site for that so attractive variety. The double example in the preceding sequence is possibly my best ever subject. Chalk Fragrant and Common Spotted Orchid were both abundant. Musk and Frog are still to come and I expect both would be much more challenging to locate in the long sward than my first visit’s fayre. Like most of the places I have sought new (for me) Orchids in the current season, Walker’s Hill is also steep! Cue another recovery day during which to compile this post.

In overcast conditions it was all too apparent that the vistas southward over the Vale of Pewsey and east and west along the escarpment I trod would be spectacular in fairer weather. The Wessex Downs have always held a fascination for me, be it the archaeological heritage of Salisbury Plain further south and Marlborough Downs to the north; or the butterfly-rich hills of Westbury, Cotley (see here), Scratchbury and Battlesbury (here) further south-west. But I had not visited this particular locale previously and like all those others the experience it produced did not disappoint.

This item was on my second season Orchid agenda as there are clusters within reasonable range. Of those, recent records suggested one near Dunstable is in decline, so I went a little further to just north-west of Peterborough and was not disappointed. My quest was in the same pale yellow-green colour spectrum as Common Twayblade and Frog Orchid; quite a contrast from the more striking fayre of a day earlier’s adventure.

The enigmatic Man Orchid (pictured above) is fairly common and widespread across southern Europe but less so further north, being rare in Great Britain where it is classed as endangered. The flowers resemble small human figures with dangling arms and legs beneath (to my mind) copious Gatsby-style caps. These skinny, understated though subtly alluring plants grow 20 – 40 cm tall, most usually on alkaline grassland, and they are known to colonise former quarries.

I was intrigued to visit one such location where there were said to be around 30 subjects. Barnack Hills and Holes NNR (PE9 3EU, TF076046 – see here) is a former limestone quarry that in medieval times provided building material for the great cathedrals of Peterborough and Ely, and other churches of the region. It was worked out by the early 16th century, since when it has come to support more than 300 species of wild plant. Those include large populations of Green-winged, Early Purple and Chalk Fragrant Orchids; and this post’s subject is the site stand-out. A designated SSSI managed by Natural England and the local Langdyke Community Trust, the hummocky expanse of its 23 hectares (57 acres) comprises half of the remaining such limestone grassland in Cambs.

As a day previously, on entering the reserve I was faced with a large “haystack” in which to search for the needle of my quest. Wandering in and around at random, cordoned off enclosures fairly soon became visible. They were the reserve’s plant protection area that is marked approximately by the blue dot on the above plan. The most convenient parking place is therefore at 52.628294, -0.408247 in Walcot Road.

At the edge of one such enclosure I found a first two rather ragged specimens. Then I was approached by a local naturalist who led me to a more productive area with Man Orchid signage where we located another four better examples. The following pictures were all taken from the enclosure perimeters, so there were no doubt more plants further inside.

My chance acquaintance told me of a second former limestone quarry site three miles away, Swaddywell Pit (PE6 7EL, TF118034 – see here). Stone extraction at this outcrop of the lower beds of Lincolnshire limestone dates from Roman times and ceased in the 1920s. The greater part of the reserve is now a grassed-over former landfill site that must be crossed from a car park beside the Stamford Stone Company (52.614804, -0.353077). The managed area beyond, again by Langdyke Community Trust, contains a mosaic of habitats including open water, reed and scrub, limestone grassland and low cliff faces.

Inside I walked to its far north-western end, just before which cages gave away the presence of a good-sized group of Man Orchids. Some of the outliers were beautifully fresh (pictured below), while the majority were part concealed within the clutter of a fenced bank. The reserve also holds several other Orchid species, more rare wild plants,14 different Odonata and a nationally important cluster of Great Crested Newt.

Man Orchids at Swaddywell Pit

Like Knocking Hoe NNR a day earlier, both this post’s locations hold huge populations of the nationally rare Pasque Flower. My home county of Oxon has two sites entailing a handful of plants each, by contrast with which it seems my visited area of Cambs offers a second Pasque grand central of this week. The following pictures are from BH&H.

Pasque Flowers

The past two days in Beds and Cambs were truly stimulating and motivating. The intriguing wild places visited, and the specialty populations of their preserved habitats’ nationally rare plants are now set to dwell in my wildlife recollections for the season. A native Orchid checklist compiled after writing this post reveals I have now observed around two-thirds of the available total. How quickly another order reduces its required records to rare and more difficult stuff, as most of the remainder are! May 2024 has nonetheless been quite a statement month.

This was possibly the favourite experience of my debut Orchid hunting season a year ago. I am in no hurry to rush around trying to observe everything, since I currently feel low on motivation both for insects and anything but different birds, and so would prefer this new interest to last for another season or two. Given that all the unseen stuff is early this year, observing Burnt Orchids again remained a priority. My abiding impressions first time around were of it taking four hours to find them and then how small the plants were, so now I hoped the wet spring might have produced larger subjects.

As soon as I reached the spot at Clattinger Farm (SN16 9TW – SU014932) remembered from a year ago I noted a first Burnt Orchid, then picked out three more (pictured below). This visit being two weeks earlier than in 2023 (see here), large numbers of going over Green-winged Orchids were still in bloom all around, while the as numerous Southern Marsh and hybrids were still at the emergent stage. A second cluster of my quest in Bridge Field had yet to appear, and those recorded were no larger than last year’s.

Burnt Orchids at Clattinger Farm with Green-winged Orchid (far right) for size comparison

Back at home I realised the size question is a common misconception amongst the less experienced. This is indeed one of Great Britain’s more diminutive Orchids, rarely exceeding 15 cm in height. That having been resolved, I also wished to see greater quantities and two very well-known sites suggested themselves. One was Martin Down on the Hants / Wilts border south-west of Salisbury. But I opted for the rather more intriguingly named second in this post’s title, which lies at the northernmost point of the Chiltern escarpment.

From a small lay-by (51.957186, -0.354002) on the B655 east of Pegsdon I walked back a few hundred metres then followed a bridleway northward around two sides of a private wood to the reserve entrance (51.961776, -0.352864). Knocking Hoe NNR (TL132305), an unaltered chalk grassland, is a SSSI due to its botanical diversity and the notable populations of some rare plants that it holds.

The vista before me (above) was vast, and it’s topography reminded me very much of the Devil’s Punchbowl (SU346849) on the South Oxon Downs and Rake Bottom of Duke of Burgundy note in West Sussex (see here). But where should I start to seek out the reason for coming here? At first I went in completely the wrong direction, walking downwards and along the nearest side of the pictured dry valley, finding only a few Common Twayblade. Then I retraced my steps, crossed the valley’s head then strode out along its opposite flank.

About half way along I noticed a fenced off enclosure (above) to keep the grazing sheep out, within which were red and blue flag markers. That looked promising but the protected wild plants were Pasque Flowers, one of Great Britain’s rarest for which I seemed to have found grand central. There were certainly hundreds, possibly thousands of them here, mostly gone to seed but more than I have ever seen in the wild nationally still in bloom. I didn’t attempt to take pictures for fear of trampling the habitat. Onward I forged and the hillside became more Orchid rich, with plenty of emergent Chalk Fragrant which was promising again.

The Burnt Orchid slope is on the north-facing side of the furthest hill in the second vista (above), as far from the reserve entrance as it was possible to venture, but I had just followed my instinct. Now I was rewarded with very many plants, every one of which was marked by a white tag. It is plain some very meticulous management is practiced here.

Burnt Orchids at Knocking Hoe

At first I took pictures (above) of the better, rather more developed specimens than those recorded at Clattinger Farm two days earlier. But they were not significantly larger, confirming that my past experiences were fairly typical for the species. Then I noticed a pale red and white item such as I had seen pictures of online (below, left), followed by a second variant (right). Pure white forms also exist but are very rare.

Lastly came this enclosure (above), within which there must have been more than 100 plants. Things do not get better than what played itself out here today. This was a fabulous place that cleansed my soul and refreshed my spirit, and I had it completely to myself. So Burnt Orchid is the stand out item so far in this second season, as it was in the first … and once again thank heavens for Orchids as a whole.

I do not do so much with Aroids these days, various of the difficult subjects I formerly attempted doggedly to bring to bloom year upon year having at length exhausted my reserves of the proverbial “Just a Little”. Neither the exceptional, prolonged frosts of winter 2022/23, nor the as notable wet one just gone have been kind to others. Of those featured herein in the past, our locally infamous Dragon Arum patch (see here) was put paid to by the first of those climactic events; while the FS2 Helicodiceros muscivorus tuber acquired with great expectation in 2020 (see here) shrunk season upon season instead before also expiring, whilst persisting as one of this journal’s top 20 most referred to subjects.

Amongst the survivors, Arisaema ringens, Arisarum proboscideum and Pinellia tripartitum (see Aroids tab) continue to thrive. Somewhere in the middle ground of all this lie two Mediterranean Arums acquired in the autumn of 2019, A concinnatum and A discoridis var syriacum. Since then their tuber stocks have multiplied greatly, producing ample foliage through each winter, but actual blooms in late spring have been a rare event. So the tantalising possibility of being thus rewarded still reminds me of my original fascination for the genus.

The first of those had performed just once before, in 2021. Now, on the evening of 8th I went outside to check, and what by the hitherto deep red, unopened toning I had expected to be a discoridis had announced itself as the other option. Moments like this cannot be missed since they occur so rarely and are then short-lived, so my camera was at once retrieved to capture the occasion (pictured above).

Through eight days that ensued, a second developing spathe gradually deepened in tone, to once more in the evening on 16th reveal itself as a discoridis (pictured below). Not only that but it was a stinker, the first of just three specimens to have bloomed here so far that has lived up to that reputation. Though quite diminutive by comparison with the now vanquished Dragons which once flourished before it, this dark beauty packed quite a punch for its size, as I had initially understood upon acquiring the so infrequently rewarding stock. Such odours are very short lived and so need to be appreciated upon these plants’ first announcement

In the morning the bloom had fully opened (centre and right, above) and the smell was barely noticeable, as is normal with day two aroids. This Arum is an absolute stunner, and the latest specimen was the most strikingly marked so far. A second, developing A concinnatum spathe had yet to unfurl and that happened a day later, but it was rather under-developed and not worth recording. This episode was a reminder of both my past predilection for these weird plants and how they can still inspire.

The aforementioned Pinellia tripartitum has bloomed early this year (pictured above). The alluring woodland Aroid from east Asia has flourished since its arrival here in 2018. Whilst the wet late winter and spring wiped out the top growth of the other two items and all the Arum italicum in our dedicated Aroid bed, the conditions seem to have suited this third. I will not be discarding my remaining Aroid stocks any time soon. For more information on these plants go to this journal’s Aroid tab then scroll down.

Before observing this Orchid for the first time earlier this week, I had intended to visit what is renowned as a British stronghold for them. Getting close to those Gloster plants would have involved scrabbling around a very steep slope in damp, slippery conditions, my days for doing which are now probably in decline. So wishing to make the most of the current fair weather window I stuck to plan A today.

Chappett’s Copse (GU32 1NB – SU653234 – see here), a Hants and IoW Wildlife Trust reserve near West Meon, is a remnant of ancient woodland that hosts a notable array of wild plants and fungi. From the entrance and parking area a well-defined track runs northward, along which I soon noticed Sword-leaved Helleborine on either side. Then the woodland opened into a glade that was carpeted with hundreds of them, an impressive sight indeed (pictured below). The red-listed plant is in decline and nationally scarce, now occurring in less than 20 locations, so for such a profusion to be in one place here seemed quite remarkable. This is just one of two sites with more than 1000 plants, having possibly up to 4000.

The white flowers are not dissimilar to the more widespread White Helleborine (see here), though purer toned and more bell-shaped. Typically growing to around 40cm in height, Sword- or Narrow-leaved is a more stately plant, and the really noticeable difference is in the shape of the long, narrow leaves that radiate in all directions. My Gloster records (see here) had conveyed that structure of the plant, though at a certain distance and through clutter, so now I needed to do do justice to both flowers and leaves. That cause was not helped when upon arrival I found I had left my SHDC card at home, but in the event my phone proved adequate as well as capturing some habitat context in the following images.

I expected the viewing area to be enclosed but it is possible to walk around freely. There was ample opportunity to gain acceptable studies from well-trodden paths, without needing to go into the habitat. SWH grows in open, damp Beech (such as here) or Oak-Ash woodland on calcareous soils. It requires certain lighting conditions and being a slow growing plant from tough and congested root stock rather than tubers is sensitive to compaction of the soil. So woodland management at Chappett’s Copse to which SLH responds slowly – especially under-storey thinning, coppicing, and maintaining ridges and glades – is geared to catering carefully for those needs.

The main causes of decline elsewhere are:

• Rapid clear-felling of sites leading to lush re-growth of the understory and consequent shading of individual plants
• Lack of maintenance of rides and glades
• Unsuitable tree planting particularly of conifers
• High levels of deer browsing
• Roadside populations being lost to road realignment

At Chappett’s Copse and other Hants sites, the introduction of a wood meadow mowing system, combined with careful tree removal has dramatically increased the number of flowering plants by up to 80 stems per season. Populations can then become self-sustaining requiring considerably less management in habitats that remain open. Conversely, removal of all trees could lead to increases in competitive ground flora, restricting growth. Moderate sun levels lead to greater insect visitation, and therefore higher seed set. Conversely, high sun levels may lead to burn-out and reduced flowering.

That regime which provides the required open, dappled shade was readily apparent to my untrained eye in the glade, and the whole reserve had a superbly well-managed air. Further information on all this may be found here. This visit today offered a fascinating insight into habitat creation and maintenance to benefit one of Great Britain’s most vulnerable Orchids.

This was my second new Amphibian target for the current year. I had planned to seek them out in the Norfolk Brecks given a suitable weather window, but when Ewan told me they also thrive at a location just 33 miles from home that seemed an easier option. I met him there at 9:30 am on this fair weather morning, and the objects of our intent did not disappoint.

There was long considered to be just one native British Frog, the Common variety, but this post’s subject is now generally accepted as a second (see here) that had become extinct. There have also been introductions of two other continental European species of the genus Water Frogs. This began in the early 19th century when Edible Frogs were released in the Fens, to largely die out by 1914, though there were more imports across south-east England later in the 20th century. The closely-related Marsh Frog was first introduced at Romney Marsh, Kent in 1935, since when they have been credited with penetrating other south-eastern counties.

Similarly re-introduced Northern Pool Frogs had largely died out by the mid-1990s, but new East Anglian releases of stock from Sweden by ARC and partner organizations took place between 2005 and 2015. Elsewhere there have been unofficial imports of non-native, southern European Pool Frog sub-species. Exactly where the Greenham Common cluster fits in with all that I am not sure, though my research for this post suggests it derives from the latter. There is great variation in colouring and patterning so separation of different populations in the field must be nigh on impossible.

Pool Frogs are generally smaller than their mature Common counterparts and produce just 25% of the latter’s tadpole count. Spawning commences with the onset of warm weather in May, three months later than Common Frog, and Pool bask semi-submerged through sunny days as we witnessed here. Around 20 minutes after my arrival at a pond to the immediate west of the BBOWT reserve’s control tower (RG19 8DB – SU 499650), there was a sudden crescendo of croaking, but not for long and thereafter it was merely intermittent.

The different individuals we observed today (pictured above) exhibited variable green or brown ground colouring overlaid by well-defined dark spots, with a prominent pale green or yellowish stripe along the centre of their backs. Pool also have more pointed snouts and longer legs than Common Frogs. Males call by day in close-knit groups, with up to 10 within a square metre of water. Their spawn rafts are typically smaller than those of the Common Frog, individual eggs being brown above and yellowish below. There was certainly none of the breeding frenzy here that we witnessed with Common Frog two years ago (see here).

Pool Frogs have a restricted distribution within the five northern European countries where they occur as small populations, some of which are in decline. Even where they are stable, their limited distribution and numbers make them vulnerable to the impact of habitat loss, severe weather and disease. I have recorded both Marsh and Edible Frog previously abroad, and now the third of their Water or Green Frog group is a lifer, whatever the provenance of this post’s sightings today might be. The British Pool Frogs of centuries long past were the northern sub-species now re-established by ARC in the Brecks (see here), so as an unlicensed introduction the Greenham Common colony will be classed as non-native.

We were not the only outsiders taking an interest in the local Pool Frog resource today. The swimming Grass Snake (pictured above) is one of their main predators, though it was not an especially large one. Another is Herons that are no respecters of scarcity themselves. But nothing else disturbed the tranquility of either the observed or the observers. Fortunately we encountered no stick throwing doggy game enthusiasts on this occasion. And so the languid life forms of our scrutiny continued to laze their own time away, croaking occasionally.

Before leaving site we listened to the song of a Nightingale issuing from a reserve perimeter hedge, one of Greenham Common’s specialty birds; others being Dartford Warbler, Woodlark and Nightjar. I have also been here in the past for butterflies, Odonata and Autumn Ladies Tresses Orchids. The mystery remains as to how this latest item got here, since I can find no reference to it online (advice in comments, anyone?). And today’s experience was one more affirmation of the now naturalised former military airfield’s great biodiversity.