A serious stare

A Long-Tailed Tit stared gravely from a twig by the bridge.

One of the local Coal Tit pair came out for pine nuts, which have to be put on the ground for it to pick up as it doesn't yet dare to come to my hand.

Nor do the ones in the Flower Walk. They will eventually.

A Wren hopped around among new leaves in the leaf yard.

A Magpie perched in the pink-flowered currant bush by the Vista.

A Pied Wagtail hunted midges around the moored pedalos at the boat hire platform.

The Grey Wagtail was in its favourite place in the fenced-off area at the Triangle.

A pair of Herring Gulls beside the Serpentine nattered mildly to each other and one started dancing to bring up worms for them.

Pigeon Eater is now spending a lot of time with his mate. I have no way of being sure that they nest on the roof of the Dell restaurant, but I strongly suspect they do. You'd need a drone to see the place.

One of the young Grey Herons was down from the nest again. The other flew down and vanished into the bushes.

Coots are nesting in the place they have used before, on the submerged wire baskets at the northeast corner of the bridge. This is where large blocks of masonry fell from the bridge when a car rammed into the parapet and the baskets must have been thoroughly smashed, but there seems to be enough left for the Coot to attach a nest.

A Moorhen peacefully climbing on dead irises in a planter in the Italian Garden ...

... was rudely chased off by a Coot arriving to gather more leaves for its nest.

It has brought so many leaves that the nest, originally at water level, is now a foot above it. Coots have ways of rolling the eggs up as the nest rises.

A mob of Egyptian Geese gathered around someone feeding them, and more came up from the edge of the lake. The more signs saying 'Don't feed the birds' are put up, the less notice people take of them.

There were twelve Gadwalls around the gravel strip in the Long Water. Here are three pairs.

A Buff-Tailed Bumblebee browsed on blackthorn blossom by the Henry Moore sculpture.

Every spring a little patch of primroses comes up by the bridge. They were planted here by a gardener decades ago, but are proper wild primroses and not the cultivated polyanthus kind.