A brief pause in the rain

It was another vile wet windy morning, and the weather forecast is for more of the same. A Coal Tit ...

... and a Blue Tit appeared at Mount Gate to collect their pine nuts ...

... and a female Chaffinch I haven't seen before came out of the yew tree next to the parapet of the bridge.

Another bird that isn't a regular: a Robin by the Steiner bench at the foot of Buck Hill, still very shy.

As I approached the Grey Herons' nest at the east end of the island there was movement and for a moment it seemed that something might be happening, but it was only the heron getting up to preen for a few moments, after which it settled down again for what is probably a hopeless task.

If any eggs were going to hatch they would have done so a week ago, and we would have seen activity. But there are now a lot of herons on the island, occupying nests and standing around the edge. Given herons' tendency to delay nesting, often for months, we may yet see a reasonable breeding season.

Pigeon Eater stood on the Dell restaurant roof in the rain, waiting for it to stop so the pigeons would come out of shelter and he could start hunting.

The hoarding around the Wasteland has been taken down, revealing acres of soggy desolation.

In mid-afternoon the sky cleared ...

... and there was a respectable rainbow.

I went back to Kensington Gardens. A heron on a post at the Vista had its crest up and looked annoyed, maybe because it had got wet or it didn't like being photographed or it wanted me to feed it, or all three.

A Cormorant was fishing under the waterspouts of the Italian Garden. Even after they have practically cleaned out the lake a few never give up hope, and to be fair there was that Cormorant two days ago that had caught a carp almost too large to swallow.

The solitary Gadwall drake was back in the Italian Garden after a couple of days' absence. There are still lots of Gadwalls elsewhere, but it just doesn't feel sociable.

A pair preened on the gravel strip in the Round Pond.

The idea of putting in this strip a few years ago was that it would be not only a refuge for waterfowl but a picturesque feature, and they hadn't realised that it would get inches deep in droppings. On warm days it smells appalling. It might be possible to improve it by adding a bit of soil and some low-growing plants tough enough not to be chewed to shreds by Coots, if any such plants exist.

A Shoveller drake preened his showy feathers and stretched a wing and a leg.

The Jackdaws often go here to get away from people and dogs, and also from persecution by the Carrion Crows which are all over the grass and bully them unmercifully.

A Pied Wagtail hunted up the edge of the pond, where the waves breaking over the kerb wash small edible creatures ashore.