Jo’s Monday walk : wild about orchids!

We walked with a certain spring in our step last Monday. Although it was a walk we’d done before, it was our first walk outside of our own small patch of the Algarve, and we were almost giddy with freedom. Starting at Fonte Felipe, in the hills above Sáo Romáo, a well marked trail led to many delights. Most exciting of these, wild orchids!

It’s rocky terrain and, even after a damper than usual winter, many of the river beds are dry. It’s amazing what can thrive in these conditions. Bright blue iris unfurl in the sunlight and the fields are studded with buttons of yellow and fragrant lavender. In a patch of green, a poppy sizzles.

The woodland shade nurtures the lively blue of the wild agapanthus. The trail twists and turns, and we breath in the scents of the flowers as we brush past them. Solid slabs of rock have been hewn from the landscape to create boundaries.

Progress is slow as we examine and exclaim at each new sighting. Jewel brights light the deep green shade. The last time we were here it was early Autumn and the paths were strewn with acorns. Spring has brought abundance to these hills. And then we have our first glimpse! Orchids are shy, and nestle beneath companion trees for protection from prying eyes. But finding one almost invariably leads to another.

We linger till we have spotted every last one. I am reluctant to move on, for I know that the orchids will have evaded capture. I can never produce a crisp image of these tiny things, try as I might. But the images are imprinted upon my brain. A treat to be stored for the future. I hurry to catch up my companions, smiling happily at the wonder of my surrounds.

Small white cistus dot the landscape, amid a spiky yellow shrub, not unlike broom. We have to watch our footing as the trail starts to descend, loose rocks being something of a hazard. But this isn’t a walk to rush, for there are surprises around every corner.

We could not decide what this beauty might be, but it stood, alone and proud, as we began our descent. The cork oaks stood sentinel over their beautiful charges, as they have for many long years, and all was right with our world.

I hope there are enough Bright Squares here to satisfy Becky. It’s a bit of a deviation from my bright memories in the Italian Lakes, but I’ll be back there later this week. Meanwhile there are walks to share.

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Feel free to join in at any time. I’m walking with you once a fortnight, but walks are always gratefully accepted. It doesn’t have to be a Monday. That’s washday, isn’t it?

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Or, even better, a tiptoe with Cady!

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I haven’t forgotten cake. Next time, I promise! Till then, take care, and get out walking when you can.

140 comments

  1. A beautiful walk, Jo. It’s so hard to imagine finding all those beauties in the wild. Sporing is doing a good job here at the moment, but it’s still a bit limited on the floral front

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  2. Ohh, I love Mondays when all is right in this world. Such a beautiful and happy walk you had. I wouldn’t be too sure about what an orchid is and isn’t among so many wildflowers around here. Some look similar to yours but since there are entire fields of them, it must be a legume of some kind. Anyway, all flowers are pretty to my eyes.

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  3. I bet you were like a kid in a sweet shop out there. So many beauties to see. Amazing orchids and I agree with Tish about the pink one. I think the agapanthus is a Portuguese squill – they grow here too and in fact I have a Pyrenean squill for you in my walk for you today https://wp.me/p79zFr-3UI which is similar but much bluer. I would definitely like the Algarve in the spring.

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  4. So many floral wonders, Jo. And so many different kinds of bee orchid. I think the little lone, conical purple-pink job is a pyramidal orchid – looks just like the ones we get in June on Windmill Hill.

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  5. Oh Jo, you’ve gone and made me homesick. You might be in Portugal, but this reminds me so much of our little corner of France at this time of year. The wealth of spring flowers of every kind, but especially orchids offered one of life’s greatest pleasures there. Every photo of yours was a little nostalgia-fest, and you’ve made me cry. Shame on you. But thanks anyway.

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