Turning on, tuning in and dropping out
Headley Heath didn't really produce the goods this morning. It was warm but dull, so insect activity was suppressed (or should that be depressed). Even walking through vegetation that would normally unleash squadrons of disturbed flying things yielded little. Plants, too, were not playing ball. I even wandered over to the Martagon Lily site (which I have seen fully in flower by early June in some years), but could only find tight buds on up to 25 plants. It has been known from here since the early 19th century. Shame I cannot show you a bloom as it is rather fetching. I sat down close to a fine specimen of Hound's-tongue (above) and huffed a bit - the morning had not been inspiring. However, the view from where I sat was magnificent, the air was warm, so I closed my eyes and let my senses take over. Bird song filtered up to me from the valley below, the chalk downland herbs were sending delicate wafts of scent my way - life wasn't so bad after all. Opening my eyes the ...