The warm sunlight had brought the Little Owl out in his usual place in the chestnut tree.

The Hobbies had been seen early in the morning and then disappeared for a long time, but eventually at 4 o'clock one of the young ones turned up in their favourite plane tree.

The eldest Great Crested Grebe chick, from the west end of the island, picked a loose feather off his sleeping mother's back without disturbing her.

At the Serpentine island a Grey Heron had waded into deep water, and was about to start floating.

Herons can swim, but not at all well with their long thin legs, and you hardly ever see them doing it.

The single Moorhen chick at Peter Pan went too close to an adult that was not its parent and got chased away, escaping by diving several times, which it did quite well though it is not something that Moorhens do much. Here it is preening its ruffled feathers after the experience.

Beside the Long Water, a Wood Pigeon was clinging precariously to a hawthorn twig trying to reach the berries at the tip.

Just after I took this picture it fell off and flapped away indignantly.

The wasps' nest near the bridge has grown enormous.

The black bucket-shaped thing to which it is attached is supposed to be an insect box for the use of ladybirds or lacewings or something else considered desirable. Well, they got insects,  just not the kind they wanted.

There was a Kingfisher at Peter Pan, but all I saw was a blue flash before it disappeared onto a willow tree on the other side of the lake. As you look from the shore in front of the statue, it is the first willow to the left of the line of posts, and the bird's station is somehere on the right side of it.