On a cold dark grey drizzly day, the Bearded Tits were keeping their heads down in the Diana fountain reed bed, and for the first time since they came to notice I didn't manage to see them, despite two visits and an extra check of the other reed bed at the east end of the lake. However, Des did on his second visit.  When I was unsuccessfully looking for them with him earlier, he said that they would probably try to leave, and we reckoned that they had a fair chance of finding the Essex marshes and the fringe of the east coast which is their normal habitat.

There was a huge mob of Mute Swans clustered around the Dell restaurant, and I counted 48 of them in this area. That is about two-thirds of the swan population of the park.

Normally most of the swans -- the low-ranking ones with no territory -- are on the Round Pond, and a few dominant birds lord it over the main lake, with frequent clashes as they try to extend their territory. But ever since the end of the years when the whole Serpentine and Long Water were dominated by a ruthless single pair, called William and Mary, the number of swans that dare to try their luck on the main lake has been going up and up. This crowd seemed fairly even-tempered and I didn't see any threat displays.

In the foreground of this picture you can see one of the white-headed Canada Geese, which has found a normal coloured mate. The pair have been together for several weeks.

No sign of the male Tawny Owl, but he had no reason to come out of his hole into the drizzle. In a tree nearby, one of the Stock Doves that live in this area was sitting huddled up and looking soggy and miserable. (A comment below suggests that it is a Wood Pigeon. It certainly looks like one in the picture, but in the tree it seemed too small to be one.)

Thrushes, on the other hand, actually like rain as it brings up the worms. This is the male Song Thrush in the leaf yard, singing loudly and cheerfully as he has done since the New Year.

And a rain-spattered Carrion Crow in the Italian Garden was very happy to come and take a digestive biscuit.

I was going to write 'was grateful for a biscuit', but crows don't do gratitude. One of the crows on this area goes as far as to fly over your head and bash you if you don't feed him promptly enough.