The Tawny Owls may or may not have been committed to the hole in the chestnut tree, but now they have definitely lost it. There was the familiar harsh noise of an Egyptian Goose, and a head appeared in the hole. It is exactly the kind of place an Egyptian would like to nest in.

The hole of the first pair of Little Owls, near the leaf yard, was being inspected by a Rose-Ringed Parakeet. Luckily it only peered in for a few moments and flew away. If it had gone in, it would have got a nasty surprise.

In spite of rain and wind, one of the second pair of Little Owls looked out of the hole in the oak tree.

A few yards away, a windswept Mistle Thrush perched in a lime tree. Most of the Mistle Thrushes in the park are winter migrants, but this one is a resident, and the pair nest in a tree between the Serpentine Gallery and the Albert Memorial. They have successfully raised several young in past years.

A Song Thrush was singing at the back of the Lido.

While I was standing on the path near the bridge feeding various tits and a Robin, a Dunnock got used to my presence and started hopping around only inches from my feet. I think this one is female: males have more grey on the head.

The largest of the Grey Herons' nests on the island was bigger, and had clearly been built up recently. Then a head appeared through the twigs. When herons sit, rather than stand, in a nest, it is generally a sign that they are incubating eggs, so maybe after a long delay this nest is a going concern.

A Canada Goose had found a floating apple and was trying to peck bits out of it, not an easy thing to do. A Black-Headed Gull swooped down and grabbed a piece.

Some Mute Swans strayed under the bridge on to the Long Water. The resident pair were hundreds of yards away by Peter Pan but saw the intruders, and at once the male steamed over and herded them back under the bridge.

The Black Swan was in the middle of the Serpentine idly harassing a big male Mute Swan, but when he saw me he came over for his daily treat of a digestive biscuit.