Woods and Wetlands of East Kent

Sometimes it works out that you go off in search of one thing, fail to find it and in the process discover something unexpectedly wonderful. One of the hardest lessons to learn in exploring the natural world is to open yourself up to make the most of whatever comes your way, whether it’s finding the beauty in something as familiar as a robin or a daisy or seeing something amazing through pure chance.

Our last nature excursion beyond the M25 took us out in to the wilds of east Kent. Kent is blessed with quite a lot of really extraordinary wildlife, from the apocalyptic scenery of Dungeness to the steep scarp slopes of the North Downs, it should probably re-brand itself as “The Wildlife Garden of England.” (The Kent Tourist Board is welcome to use that – the first one’s free) Among all its varied landscapes and wildlife though, for me Kent is synonymous with rare orchids, and this is what we'd gone out to look for.

We had driven down to Denge Wood just outside Canterbury to meet up with some friends (outside, of course) and go looking for lady orchids. The Lady is a species that I’ve never seen before, and small wonder because outside of a few woods in the North Downs, they’re only found at a couple of other sites in Britain. A spectacular orchid, by all accounts, it's big and blousy and well-worth seeking out. I’d been researching for a few days before on Twitter because they’re known to bloom from the end of April, and some wonderful photos of these flowers tempted me to give it a try although, it should be noted, the flowers I was looking at were growing in France!

Denge Wood with its bluebells coming through!

Beech woodlands in Kent in Spring are awash with bluebells, so the first part of our walk was through a lovely wood carpeted in purply-blue nodding flowers. It was a wide, well-surfaced track that lead us deep into the forest, surrounded by the fluting calls of blackcaps and the trilling of wrens. We reached a point where the track swept upwards along a slope but we carried on along a narrow footpath into an area of coppice. It was here we had our first notable sighting of the day: an early purple orchid – what Gertrude refers to as “Long Purples” in Hamlet. One of the first orchids of the year to bloom they’re often found in bluebell woods but their magenta flowers stand out a mile. This one was only partially open but we’d managed to find orchids, so it was a great start. A little further along a small path lead up to a gate beyond which was a patch of lightly wooded sloping ground that’s known colloquially as “Bonsai Bank.” This area is very well known as one of the best spots for Lady Orchids and also for being quite tricky to find – it was only through a bit of searching and matching with an OS map that I was able to find it relatively easily.

Early purple orchid - "That liberal shepherds give a grosser name but which cold maids do 'Dead Man's Fingers' call."

We headed along the paths through Bonsai Bank, looking carefully to either side of the path. This is de rigeur for orchid hunting, not only to help with finding rarities but also to make sure you don't squash them! Lady orchids are, apparently, tall and easily spotted but they were conspicuous here by their absence. Or rather by the absence of flowers, because here and there were dotted the spectacular leaf rosettes of the orchids: the cold weather had discouraged them and no flower spikes were to be found! A little disastrous, but give it a few weeks and it’ll be really spectacular. We did find some more early purples though, and the spotted leaves of more to come. There were also, here and there, the round twinned leaves of common twayblade and we vowed we’d come back to see the display.

Maybe come back in a couple of weeks?!

Orchid hunting being a bit hit and miss, rather than head back to London in dejection we thought we’d make the most of the day. A little to the east, on the other side of Canterbury, there’s a rather wonderful wetland nature reserve called Stodmarsh, so binoculars in hand we headed over there to see what it was like. The journey involved some narrow lanes and pretty little villages with chocolate box cottages, tiny churches and the ubiquitous oast houses. On arrival we made our way up the path and onto the reserve itself. Stodmarsh is a huge area of reedbeds and lakes that was reclaimed from gravel extraction pits, so it’s not technically natural, but this quite common for wetland nature reserves (The London Wetland Centre, where I work, is a similar example having originally been reservoirs).

The reedbeds of Stodmarsh under some dramatic skies. Somehow, we managed to miss the rain!

Heading along the edge of the reedbeds we were almost immediately treated to the sight of marsh harriers cruising over the marshes and the sound of Cettis warblers exploding from out of every tree we passed. The reedbeds themselves were full of reed warblers which, from time to time, would flit through the long yellow stalks of the reeds before letting their warbling song fly from deep inside. We caught a few glimpses of them, along with their scratchier cousins the sedge warblers. Reed buntings frolicked in the trees and the occasional squeal from deep in the reeds gave away the presence of water rails. Reedbeds are at their best in the spring and summer when they’re filled with all this life, although later in the year Stodmarsh is likely to be thick with dragonflies and damselflies cruising up and down its water channels.

Some of the wildlife at Stodmarsh is unexpectedly brave - willow warblers are not usually noted for wandering out of bushes and posing...

A boardwalk opened up on the right and we went for a short wander along it. My wife, who loves to chatter, got talking to a friendly photographer out making the most of the good weather. As we talked I looked up into the sky and started watching the birds flocking up there, wheeling spectacularly against the cobalt blue and fluffy clouds. As I watched them swoop and turn around each other, their pointed swept-back wings allowing them to skillfully pull of acrobatics that would make even the most experienced pilot dizzy, I realised that there was something not quite as I expected with them. In early May, a mass of pointy-winged birds would immediately make me think of swifts, but there was none of the shrieking you usually get with these birds and I spotted one or two of the smaller swifts flying around with them.

I took out my binoculars for a look and got quite a surprise – I could clearly make out the swept-back wings, hooked beaks and eye markings of falcons, and with bright red bums there was only one thing they could be. We were watching a flock of about 20 – 30 hobbies darting around catching insects having, presumably, just arrived from migration. I’ve only seen hobbies a few times before, and always on their own, so seeing a flock of them was really rather surprising, and their acrobatic flight was astonishing to watch, especially with the large number of birds up there. Little hobby fact – the inventor of Subbuteo, the popular table football game wanted to call his game, “Hobby” but wasn’t allowed to use it as a trademark. So he took out a bird book and looked up the bird with the same name and used its binomial name, Falco subbuteo, to name his new game.

Part of the hobby flock

If we’d found Lady Orchids in Denge Wood I suppose we might not have made it to Stodmarsh, or maybe we’d have gone and missed the hobbies, but it reminded me that the best way to experience nature is to take it as it comes. Many people are obsessed with ticking off rarities (Whether its birds or orchids) and will get depressed when they don’t find what they’re looking for. Instead we should be ready to embrace whatever wonderful thing might be round the next corner – you never know when you might come across a flock of hobbies!