The workmen have finished cleaning the stonework in the Italian Garden. The scaffolding is gone, and the Grey Heron can return to its customary place under the marble fountain, standing on the iron grating and waiting for a fish to poke its head beyond the edge.

There is just one bit of stone that the men could not clean: the fountain with the Coots' nest on it, which remains a grimy greenish black. The nesting bird has been sitting indomitably in the drenching spray for three weeks, and soon we shall see whether the pair have managed to keep their eggs warm enough to hatch in this challenging place.

At the east end of the Serpentine, a Great Crested Grebe was carrying some weed to the new nest inside the reed raft.

On the edge of the same raft, a nesting Moorhen looked out as its partner arrived.

A Pied Wagtail collecting food for its nestlings had a momentary problem when it accidentally spiked a grub on the upper point of its beak, but it soon managed to shift it down, get a grip on it, and carry on hunting.

And Egyptian Goose was having another problem: how to eat a floating apple. After pecking vainly at it for a couple of minutes, the bird gave up and swam away.

Six Red Crested Pochards have appeared together at the Serpentine island. On any day there may be as many as 24, the most I ever saw, or none. Probably the population flies to and from Regent's Park.

The female Little Owl was almost hidden deep in the foliage of her chestnut tree. When she saw me approaching, she gave a nervous glance over her shoulder and vanished into the nest hole.