Tuesday 1 February 2022

Small birds in the Flower Walk

A Long-Tailed Tit paused for a moment on top of the corkscrew hazel in the Flower Walk.


A Wren came out from a flower bed.


A Robin singing quietly to itself on the railings below was interrupted by a Goldcrest singing loudly a few feet away, and then by a Great Tit landing right next to it.


Another Robin perched in the lush green of a Mexican Orange bush next to the bridge.


A female Chaffinch rested in a tree in the leaf yard.


A pair of Carrion Crows preened each other in an oak.


A Starling looked down from a black lime tree beside the Serpentine.


There were still plenty of Redwings on the Parade Ground, most of them out of sight in trees but you could hear them chattering.


The Grey Wagtail seems to have taken up residence next to the bridge, and was using the old iron railings as a hunting station. It's used to me and doesn't mind being photographed, but when a wheezing runner trundle heavily past it flew away.


There was a Grey Heron on the possibly active nest on the island. It was looking down into the nest and poking something. There is no way of telling whether there's anything in the nest. We shall just have to wait until we hear (or don't hear) the clatter of tiny beaks.


The familiar Black-Headed Gulls were in their proper places, EZ73323 on the No Swimming sign ...


... and the aggressive one on the landing stage, which again he was managing to keep completely clear.


Shovellers and Gadwalls fed in their different ways in the bright sunshine at the Vista.


A fox dozed in the sunlight, occasionally opening an eye. This was in the place next to the Henry Moore sculpture where the last surviving rabbits live. I hope the fox wasn't sleeping off a heavy meal of one of them.


The bright light made it possible to get a better picture of a pike in the Long Water under the Italian Garden. This one was a good three feet long.

2 comments:

  1. I'd wager that Gull takes a certain amount of satisfaction perching on that sign.

    I love it when birds sing quietly to themselves. It's such a magical moment, as if by a gracious gift they made you privy to their innermost thoughts.

    That rude Great Tit though. So careless of the Robin's personal space.

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    1. Both those Black-Headed Gulls seem to be masters of all they survey, and supremely confident. It's a bluff, but that's often how you advance up the hierarchy to be top bird.

      Difficult to record these quiet songs on a windy day, but at least the video gives you an idea. Amazing how loud the song of the tiny Goldcrest is in comparison.

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