Shovellers have returned to the Long Water, though they were on the far side and it was impossible to get a good picture. The ones on the right are immature males, not yet in their full finery.

The Black Swan had got himself into a very complicated position while preening.

One of the three youngest Greylags raced across the shore of the Serpentine flapping its wings. The flight feathers are still emerging in their wrappings, and it will be a while before it gets airborne.

The two young Great Crested Grebes from the Long Water were fishing on the other side of the bridge. They were calling occasionally, but their parents were taking no notice of them. Probably they have been kicked out, at an early age but no younger than the teenage grebe from the island, who has survived and was fishing in the same place yesterday.

The Grey Heron in the Dell, though still with its juvenile grey feathers, is more than a year old and a skilled fisher. It was looking down hopefully from a rock in the little stream in the Dell.

There are some large carp in here, far too large for the heron to swallow, but evidently there are some smaller fish too. Small fish must be constantly washed over the weir from the lake above.

A young Cormorant, still with a pale front, drying its wings and preening on a post near the Serpentine bridge.

A female Blackcap was tut-tutting in a tree beside the Long Water.

The Robin that owns the olive tree between the Lido swimming area and the restaurant was calling from its usual twig. Robins, which sing almost all the year round, are going through their silent phase in late summer. In the autumn, when the pairs split up and claim individual territories, both males and females will start singing again.

Both the young Robins were visible under the feeder in the Rose Garden.

One of them has more adult red feathers than the other.

The usual Dunnock was also there ...

... and they were joined by a racing pigeon. The ring number shows that it comes from Morden in southwest London. I rang the owner, who said that it's a young pigeon still in training, missing for a fortnight, and that he hopes it will come home when it gets tired of wandering around. It was wary of me and I couldn't have caught it for him.

The Little Owl at the leaf yard was in an awkward place to photograph, silhouetted against an overcast sky, and this was the best picture I could manage.

There was a patch of concave mushrooms at the northwest corner of the bridge, inaccessible behind the spiked fence and sadly broken by some creature trampling on them. I had hoped that they were Chanterelles, which are very good to eat. But Mario has examined them and says that they are one of the Milk Cap species, probably the harsh tasting Lactarius acerrimus.

 At the Albert Memorial, a cloud of mist hovered around Africa. It was being jet washed. The camel didn't look amused.