Friday, 17 May 2019

The Mute Swans nesting on the little island in the Long Water now have two cygnets.

The swans in the nearby reed bed have pulled down more reeds to extend their nest, thus ruining their cover -- but swans never understand this.

The single Greylag gosling at the Lido was cropping grass under the watchful eye of its mother.

The Coot chicks at the boathouse are already finding some food for themselves, but their parents will go on feeding them for some time.

One of the young Grey Herons was fishing on the other side of the boathouse.

The other one took off from the nest and joined it. They are still young enough to be friends rather than rivals.

There was a single Black-Headed Gull on the Serpentine, all dressed up in breeding plumage but with nowhere to go. This is a year-old bird, still with some brown feathers and a black-tipped tail.

The mate of the pigeon-eating Lesser Black Backed Gull enjoyed a wash. The pigeon eater himself was away hunting.

A Carrion Crow on Buck Hill dived into the newly mown grass and came up with a single pigeon wing, maybe one of the pigeon eater's leftovers.

There was a reasonable number of Swifts over the Serpentine, about 50.

A Pied Wagtail ran along the edge of the edge of the lake gathering insects, and flew off to its nest.

The familiar Blackbird on the Long Water spotted me across the lake and came over for some sultanas. Then he followed me right round the lake, coming back again and again for more. He is feeding the young in the nest and needs as much as he can get.

I don't know what this thing is that the Starling is holding. But the other Starlings wanted it too, and the bird took into its nest to feed the chicks.

A young Great Tit was fed by a parent.

The web-spinning moths have completely encased the bush under the Triangle car park, and have started on the adjacent bushes.

They are even covering the ground with webs.

Yellow irises are in bloom near the Diana fountain and in the Italian Garden.

When I was little, dandelion seed heads were called 'dandelion clocks'. You tried to blow off all the seeds, and the number of puffs it took was the time. It was usually four o'clock, so you went home for tea.


  1. What a charming name, dandelion clocks, and what a charming custom! In Spain children blow the seeds away to make a wish, in some areas to ward off poverty.

    I would give much to have a Blackbird as my own walking companion.

    Glad to see the number of Swifts keeps climbing. What would we do without them?

    1. We also used to gather young dandelion leaves to make into salads. When older, the leaves get too bitter and can't be eaten raw, though you can cook them to remove the bitterness.