Wednesday 13 June 2018

A Great Crested Grebe at Peter Pan washed and preened, and flapped and then slowly spread its wings to get the feathers properly arranged.

The Moorhens in the Italian Garden, with a well hidden nest in a clump of plants, have produced eight chicks.

The Coots who build the nest at the island which was stolen by Great Crested Grebes were back in possession after being scared off by a Grey Heron, and one of them was shouting defiance at some geese that were passing by.

A Coot has again dived under the wire mesh barrier in one of the small boathouses and built a nest on the platform inside. This is a hopeless place, because the platform is too high for the chicks to get back on when they fall in the water, so they all perish one by one. Forgetting this, Coots nest here every year.

A Mute Swan took her cygnets behind the little railing that surrounds the boathouse, where they could be safe from passing dogs.

The brood of 15 Canada goslings is still intact, and the goslings are now quite large. Here they leave the grass where they have been feeding and thread their way through the crowds to get to the lake.

A Greylag gosling separated from its parents was wandering along the wrong side of the lake, calling disconsolately. But it had the sense to cross the lake and came ashore to look for them again. They were just up the slope from the edge, so I'm sure it got back eventually.

The wandering Bar-Headed Goose from St James's Park paid a visit to the Serpentine.

The two Egyptian goslings near the bridge watched their mother washing.

The two Grey Heron teenagers struck attitudes on the boathouse roof.

An adult on a post at Peter Pan langudly stretched a wing.

Leftover pizza on an outside table in the Dell restaurant quickly attracted Feral Pigeons until a waitress arrived to clear it, and them, away.

A young Long-Tailed Tit perched in a horse chestnut tree.

A Coal Tit looked out from a holly bush.

I couldn't find any Little Owls today, though Tom heard one calling later. A Wood Pigeon rudely occupied the male owl's favourite branch in the chestnut near the leaf yard.


  1. Heron Yoga! My favourite kind.

    The moment when the Grebe slowly stretches its weird wings is strangely enthralling.

    Funny to see how the disconsolate stray Greylag gosling assuaged its anxiety by bouts of random preening. My late lamented canary did pretty much the same thing: when it became discomfitted it'd preen, as if it tried to sooth itself.

    I can see the Pigeon and pizza clip in your channel, but I can't see it embedded on the blog.

    1. In the words of Paul Gallico's cat Jenny, 'When in doubt, wash.'

      Sorry about the dud link, the result of assembling the blog in a hurry. Corrected.